


A Chance Encounter

by Penthesilea1623



Series: A Chance Encounter [2]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Missed Opportunity, Universe Alteration, Unrequited Love, a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-10 11:15:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2023083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penthesilea1623/pseuds/Penthesilea1623
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This came about when I was feeling bad about how miserable Anders is in the All That Might Be universe. Someone asked me if I ever considered having Anabel and Anders end up together. This is what resulted. </p><p>In this AU  Anders agrees to let Anabel help out with the mage underground. She doesn't go to the state dinner, and doesn't meet up with Sebastian until he asks for her help with Lady Harimann. By the time that happens, Anders and Anabel have gotten together and he has moved into the mansion. In spite of the attraction they felt for each other in Act I, no romance develops between Anabel and Sebastian, and in Act III Sebastian makes the decision to rejoin the Chantry</p><p>An Indulgent Father, tells how Anabel let Anders live after he blew up the Chantry because she was pregnant with their daughter, Elin.</p><p>For a time they live together, raising their daughter. When the Templars split from the Chantry, Anders and Justice decide they have hidden long enough and leave to take up the mages' cause again. Anabel stays to take care of their daughter.</p><p>This part of the story begins five years after the Kirkwall Chantry was destroyed. Anabel and Sebastian run into each other, quite by chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Meeting in a Chantry

Sebastian sat in a dark corner of the village chantry and prayed. 

Even now, after all that had happened, even now that he was no longer a brother of the faith, he still found comfort in the familiar prayers and images, the sound of the Chant, the faint smell of incense that always lingered. 

Even now when all of Thedas was on the brink of Maker knew what, even now that he was Prince Sebastian, known throughout Thedas as the Divine’s most stalwart, devoted servant and her most determined defender, who had reclaimed the throne of Starkhaven in her name, even now he could sit in this small village chantry and find peace.

Or something resembling it anyway. 

He wasn’t certain how long he had been sitting here. He and the small contingent of men he’d had with him had been returning to Starkhaven and had decided to go along the coast towards Wycome and take a ship up the Minanter rather than taking the overland route, when they had stumbled upon, of all things, a village fair.

It seemed so strange that after all that had happened, all that was happening, that there were still village fairs. Sebastian had slowed his horse and ridden through the village, looking around at the garlands and bunting, the villagers in their brightest and best clothes, with flower crowns and wreaths on their heads, tables set up with merchants selling their wares, musicians playing, men and women dancing and for a moment he could only stare. Didn’t they know? Didn’t they realize what was happening? How could they carry on as if nothing had changed? 

He’d been about to command the men to ride straight through when he’d seen something in their faces, some longing for times past when such things had been commonplace, that had made him change his mind. Instead he’d announced that they’d stop for the night, and he’d instructed his Captain to secure rooms for them at whatever Inn the village might offer. The pleasure in their eyes made him feel guilty that he hadn’t given them a respite from their duties before now. Rooms were obtained and his men set out eagerly to enjoy the fair.

Sebastian hadn’t joined them. Instead he’d asked the innkeeper if the village had a chantry, and had been led there by the man’s teenaged son, rather sulkily, at least until they arrived at the chantry door and Sebastian handed him a silver for his trouble. 

So here he sat alone, but for a sister who periodically wandered through as she went about her duties casting him curious glances but not interrupting him. She wasn’t here now. And the villagers were enjoying the fair and had no interest in praying, not today. 

He looked up at the altar. There was no statue of Andraste here: the village wasn’t large enough or wealthy enough for that, but someone had painted her picture on the wall behind the altar. It was a simplistic painting, the angles of the figure were a bit awkward, but he found his eyes drawn to it. This wasn’t the warrior Andraste that you saw in so many Chantries, especially these days. This was the nurturing mother, her expression soft and kind, her hands held out in benediction. 

This was the Andraste that Elthina had spoken of and loved. _The Chantry is not a domineering father with the whip always in hand._ She’d always say when people had questioned why the Chantry didn’t take a harsher stand. _She is a gentle mother who knows that children learn best when they are allowed to learn themselves._

He felt his throat tighten at the memory. Had Elthina had been wrong? Was this gentle, nurturing Andraste a false promise? Was it the warrior, sword in hand, leading armies into battle that was the true face of Andraste? Maker knew in the past few years he had led enough troops into battle in Andraste’s name to believe it so. But seeing this gentler Andraste that decorated the chantry wall he found himself longing for Elthina’s Andraste, but at the same time doubting that he would ever know her again, if she had in fact ever existed.

He felt tears burn his eyes and he lifted a hand to rub them. It accomplished nothing to think like this. He must be more tired than he had realized. 

The door to the chantry opened just a few inches, letting a thin band of light into the dimness and Sebastian turned his head to see who else had sought comfort here.

A small girl stuck her head in the door and looked cautiously around. Sebastian was no expert but he guessed her age to be about four or five. He assumed she was one of the villager’s children. She wore a simple dress in a soft green, of homespun fabric; simple, sturdy, peasant clothes. Her hair was a tangle of pale golden curls and she wore a flower crown of daisies that sat slightly askew on her head.

She stepped all way into the chantry and let go of the door which closed with a loud thud behind her, making her jump. She looked anxious for a moment, probably worrying that someone would come and scold her. Sebastian could see her relax when no one appeared to investigate the noise. She didn’t seem to have noticed him, hidden as he was by the shadows in his dark corner. 

She looked around curiously and her mouth fell open when she saw the painting, illuminated by the candles around it. She walked slowly towards it, her eyes round as saucers, as if she’d never seen anything like it.

Perhaps she wasn’t one of the villagers, he thought, but from one of the outlying farms. Trips to town were rarer for those families, only on holidays or on fair days.

She stopped in front of the altar, and then, after looking around once more to make sure no one was watching, she snuck behind it so she was standing directly in front of the painting. He watched with a smile as she put her hands out, mimicking the pose, and then moved closer, reaching up to put her hand flat against that of Andraste’s. The movement turned her so he could see her profile. She was smiling, looking up at it in awe, and as he watched she laughed in delight, a pure sound, clear as a bell. He couldn’t help smiling when he heard it.

Something about the whole scene brought him an ease he hadn’t felt in months. In years. How long had it been since he’d heard a child laugh?

“What are you doing? Get away from there! You wicked child, pawing at a sacred image of the Maker’s Bride! You should be punished! Where are your parents? You can be certain you’ll get a good whipping for this.” The sister had returned, and was advancing on the child.

The child had frozen when the sister had begun shouting, and at the woman’s threat she began to cry. Even from where he sat at the back he could see her tears, see her shaking in fear.

“Get out from behind there at once! You aren’t welcome here.” 

Sebastian rose to his feet. “All are welcome in the house of the Maker, Sister. You would do well to remember that.” His voice echoed through the Chantry.

The sister squeaked in surprise as he crossed to stand in front of her. “Your Highness. This urchin was putting her filthy hands on the sacred image of Andraste.” She sputtered.

He cut her off. “This child was drawn to the Chantry and to the image of Andraste. Who are you to say she isn’t welcome?”

She tried to speak but Sebastian silenced her with a gesture. “Leave us.” 

She did as he’d ordered. Most did these days.

He crouched down in front of the child. She was watching him warily, and tears were still streaming down her face, though she wasn’t making a sound.

“It’s all right.” He told her pulling out a handkerchief, drying her tears, and then gently wiping her nose. 

She was staring at him in awe now, with big brown eyes that had dark lashes, in spite of the golden hair. Her skin was fair and her cheeks pink. She was an extraordinarily pretty child. “What are you called, little one?” He asked softly.

“Elin.” She said her voice barely more than a whisper.

“That’s a very pretty name.” He told her with a smile. “My name is Sebastian. Would you like to see the picture?”

She nodded, her brown eyes solemn. He stood and picked her up and carried her over so she was eye to eye with the picture. The same look of wonder came over her face. “Who is she?” She asked.

He tried to keep the surprise from his face. “Her name is Andraste.” He told her. 

“Andraste.” She repeated carefully. “It’s a beautiful name. She’s lovely, isn’t she?” She asked turning to look at him with a brilliant smile that unexpectedly twisted at his heart. He supposed it had been a long while since he’d seen a child’s smile. He hadn’t realized he’d missed it.

He looked back at the painting. “Yes. She is.” He agreed. “Do you know who she was?” 

She shook her head. 

“She was a slave, a very long time ago. But she loved to sing and she sang so beautifully that the Maker heard her and loved her and made her his bride. And if we pray to her she tells the Maker of our troubles.” 

“My mama sings beautifully too.” Elin said, slipping her small arms around his neck. “Do you think the Maker will marry her too?” She asked, turning questioning eyes to him.

He couldn’t help laughing. “Your father might not like that.” He told her.

She was looking back at the picture again. “Papa goes away a lot, sometimes for so long that we don’t know if he’s coming back and we go live somewhere else. I think Mama gets lonely. Sometimes she cries at night when she thinks I’m sleeping.” Elin spoke so matter of factly about it that Sebastian couldn’t help thinking that this father of hers must have been going missing for most of her life. He felt a small pang of pity for the girl’s mother. It couldn’t be easy for her raising a child on her own in these times. “Does your mother know where you are now?” He asked.

Elin shook her head. “I wanted to see what was inside here.” She told him. “I’ve never been inside.”

Never? Sebastian frowned, wondering how that was possible. “She’s probably very worried about you.” 

“She’s selling her potions and things at the fair. She’s too busy to notice I’m gone.” Elin informed him. 

Potions and a daughter who’d never seen the inside of a chantry. He wondered whether her mother could be an apostate. When this war had started he’d been ruthless about turning in apostates when he found them. Since the templars had split from the Chantry it simply wasn’t possible and truth be told his zeal for it had faded quickly. Whatever this woman might be, he had no intention of doing anything but returning her daughter to her. “Why don’t we go and make sure?” He asked putting Elin down and holding out his hand to her.

She took it without any hesitation. “I can tell her about Andraste!” She said excitedly, skipping along beside him. 

They wandered through the fair together like that. He bought her a gingerbread man to eat and she chattered on, asking question after question about almost everything they saw. He answered her questions as best he could and each answer seemed to produce more questions. Again he found himself smiling, enjoying her curiosity, the unrestrained joy she took in everything around her. Were all children like this? His advisors had been pressuring him to marry and beget an heir. He’d put them off. There had only ever been one woman whom he’d wanted to marry, and she…he dismissed the thought of her as he always did. 

But if a child of his were like this one perhaps he should marry one of the noblewomen whose names had been trotted out before him. Perhaps a child, or children would make up for having to marry, rather than wanting to marry.

They reached the tables where merchants were hawking their wares, and he looked down at Elin. She was looking around with a small worried frown and he was about to ask if she remembered where her mother’s table had been, when he heard a woman frantically calling out her name. 

He looked up and saw a woman at the other side of the market. She was obviously agitated, running her fingers through short dark hair. She was small and wearing a nondescript brown dress. “Elin!” She called again.

“Mama!” Elin shouted happily, pulling her hand free of Sebastian’s and running straight at the woman, flinging herself into her arms. The woman caught her and held her tight, spinning her around. Elin’s flower crown went flying to the ground. 

Sebastian had been worried she might be angry, but even halfway across the market from her he could see she was smiling. Elin said something to her and she threw back her head and laughed as she put her back down. 

A rich, throaty laugh that sent a shiver through him.

Sebastian went still at the sound of that laugh. 

It couldn’t be. Five years of searching. Five years of seeking her out across most of Thedas. Five years of wanting to ask her why she’d done what she had. He went striding across the Market to her side.

She had bent down to pick up her daughter’s flower crown. “My daughter tells me I have you to thank for her safe return Serah.” She said replacing the wreath on her Elin’s hair and straightening up and giving him a brilliant smile. A smile just like her daughter's.

He understood now why it had caused that twist of pain.

Her smile faded and her blue-green eyes went round as she recognized him. “Sebastian?” She whispered.

“Where is he, Anabel?” Sebastian demanded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pictures and such relating to A Chance Encounter can be found on my tumblr: 
> 
> [A Chance Encounter photo/style references](http://penthesilea1623.tumblr.com/search/A+Chance+Encounter)


	2. A Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anabel and Sebastian speak for the first time in five years.

For a moment they just stared at each other in shock. 

Those beautiful flame-colored curls cut short and dyed a non-descript brown. She was thinner, more angular than she’d been in Kirkwall, and the freckles that she’d had the first time he’d met her were back. She’d always looked younger than she actually was in Kirkwall. She must be close to thirty now, he realized, and for the first time she looked it. It was a good disguise. Most who had known her as the Champion of Kirkwall would have walked right by her without a second glance. It didn’t fool him though. It didn’t hide the fact that she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. 

Her eyes were the same, though there were a few fine lines at the corners now. Nothing could disguise those unique eyes and he drank them in as if he’d been starved of them these last few years. That same rich blue and green, like the waters of the Rialto Bay off the coast of Antiva. He remembered thinking that once, one evening in the Hanged Man when they been playing Wicked Grace. She’d been across the table from him laughing at some jest of Isabela’s and he’d finally realized what her eyes reminded him of. As if she’d know he was looking at her she’d turned and smiled at him. Not the teasing smile she gave the others but a soft gentle smile that she gave only to him. A smile that told him without words that she was happy he was there, and that she loved him and he had smiled back because he’d loved her too. They’d loved each other, it was impossible to deny, though he’d never been able to put a label on it and eventually he’d given up trying to. It was more than friendship, and to say it was the sort of love a brother and sister felt for each other was a lie. To say it was a romantic love, or a passionate love wasn’t quite right either. It was all of those and none of them at the same time. She’d belonged to another. She’d belonged to _him_. 

His hands clenched into fists and he took a step closer to her. “Where is he, Anabel?” He repeated, his voice harsher this time.

Anabel. No one called her that any more. After Carver had joined the Wardens, after Leandra had been killed, it had only been Sebastian who still called her Anabel. She’d been simply ‘Hawke’ and then ‘Champion’ to everyone else. Only Sebastian had seen past those other names, only he had called her Anabel, or even Ana sometimes, when it was just the two of them spending time together those last couple of years, when Anders had started retreating to the clinic more and more, writing that damned manifesto and plotting Maker knew what. 

But everyone knew what he’d been plotting now, and the thought tore through her, as it always did. She should have known. She should have sensed…

She looked up at this stranger with Sebastian’s bright blue eyes, trying to find some glimpse of the man she’d known in Kirkwall. He must be there, somewhere, else why would he have taken such care of a lost peasant child he didn’t even know. 

He’d always been big, but he seemed even larger now. He’d let his hair grow past his shoulders, and he’d grown a thick beard as well. It made him look more fierce, but failed to hide the beauty of that jaw and those cheekbones. There were frown lines on his forehead and at the corners of his mouth and he looked older, harsher, and more grim than she could ever have imagined he would. The shining white and gold armor was gone. He wore all black now. Her eyes went to the heavy gold chain around his neck, thicker than her thumb, and the large gold sunburst medallion that hung from it before going back to his eyes still blue, still brilliant but cold and hard now. Looking at those eyes she could believe the stories she’d heard about Sebastian, Prince of Starkhaven, the Hand of Justice for the Divine. 

_Justice_.

She’d started laughing when she’d first heard that title and hadn’t been able to stop, not until Anders had taken her by the shoulders and shaken her and then the hysterical laughter had dissolved into equally hysterical tears. They’d ended up fighting, yelling so loudly that they’d woken Elin who had been barely a year old at the time. 

_Elin_.

She looked quickly down at her. Her daughter was looking up at Sebastian, her confusion plain on her face, no doubt wondering what had made the nice man who bought her gingerbread so angry. Anabel slipped an arm around her shoulders, and gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile before turning resolutely back to Sebastian. 

“You can’t really expect me to answer that, Your Highness.” Her voice was steadier than she’d expected it to be.

The title sounded wrong coming from her lips. “Don’t call me that.” He said sharply. “You of all people know I never wanted that title.” How many hours had they spent together discussing it? He’d treasured every one, knowing that no matter which choice he made she would give him her unwavering support as she’d proven when he’d finally made the decision to stay with the Chantry.

As if she’d read his mind, her face softened. “I’m sorry you couldn’t remain a priest. I know how much you wanted it.”

The sympathy only seemed to add to his anger. “I left the priesthood because you let that abomination live! Because your lover was more important to you than murder of hundreds of innocents. Than Elthina.” His face twisted in pain. Still, after so many years. “Where is he?” He demanded again.

“Even if I knew for certain I wouldn’t tell you, Sebastian.” The words were sad rather than defiant and it infuriated him. 

“I could bring you in.” He threatened. “Flames, Anabel, I could cut you down where you stand, and no one would fault me for it. Hundreds, thousands, would cheer the news.” 

She had to blink back tears, but she lifted her chin defiantly. “So why don’t you?” She asked in a quiet voice.

There was a small noise and Sebastian looked down to see Elin, half hidden behind Anabel, clutching at her skirts and staring up at him, her eyes huge in her face. She had his eyes, he realized. Those golden brown eyes. The Abomination’s eyes. She looked so much like him, this daughter; Sebastian could only wonder that he hadn’t noticed it from the start. Anders had a daughter, while he’d lost everyone he’d loved. As he stared down at her, her lip began to tremble and he suddenly realized that her mouth was her mother’s. She had that same full upper lip that used to haunt him all those nights as he lay awake in his room in the Chantry, thinking of her, aching for her. 

Anabel moved her daughter behind her and for the first time she seemed frightened. She pleaded with him in a low voice. “Not in front of Elin, please Sebastian. You’ve found me. I’ll do what you want, go where you want, willingly, without a fight, but don’t make her a part of this. Let me take her somewhere safe. Let her be safe, please. ”

He could only stare at her, aghast. “Sweet Andraste, Anabel, do you honestly think I’d harm a child?”

She looked at him with bleak eyes. “I learned five years ago that you can be with someone day and night for years and have no idea what they are capable of.” Her voice was raw, wounded. 

As if somehow she’d been the wronged party. His anger flared back to life.

“I learned that lesson as well.” He said bitterly. “When you sided with that creature. When you let him live.” 

People were starting to look at them with interest. She stepped closer to him keeping one arm around Elin, who was clinging desperately to her now, sensing that something was very wrong. “Not here, Sebastian. Please don’t do this here. No one knows about her. Please, for my daughter’s sake. She’s an innocent in all this.”

“Like all of those in the Chantry that day were innocents?” He snarled before he could stop himself.

She flinched as if he had struck her, and then lifted her chin defiantly. “And would it help your cause if yet another innocent were killed?” She asked him.

He looked down at Elin, staring up at him, wide-eyed, absolutely terrified. He’d never thought to see a child look at him that way. He grabbed Anabel’s wrist suddenly, pulling her closer. “Do you see?” He asked in a low, harsh voice. “Do you see what your actions have turned me into?” 

Her eyes filled with tears. “Yes.” She whispered softly. “And it’s breaking my heart.” 

He dropped his hand from her arm as if he’d been burned, and took a step back. “At least you still have a heart to break, Anabel. Mine shattered five years ago.” 

The tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks, and she just nodded slowly. Was she agreeing with him? Implying that her heart had broken too? The thought infuriated him. He watched as Elin’s hands scrambled at her and Anabel bent picked her up, murmuring softly as she held her close and stroked her hair.

How in Andraste’s name had they come to this? And he knew the answer: _Anders_. “I warned you.” He said to her. “Do you remember? I warned you of what he was capable of, and you didn’t listen.” 

“Your Highness, is there a problem?” 

Sebastian turned to see his Captain and a handful of his men standing there. He looked back at Anabel. Her eyes were pleading. 

“How far to your home from here?” Sebastian asked her abruptly. 

She stared at him a moment, her eyes searching his face, for what he wasn’t sure. “About a four hour ride west of here.” She told him quietly.

So she’d been serious about cooperating. He glanced up at the sky. The sun was just setting. It was too late to leave tonight. “You have rooms at the inn?” 

A hint of a rueful smile curved her mouth, but didn’t touch her eyes. “No. I haven’t the coin for that. We sleep in the back of the cart.” 

He thought of her lavish home in Hightown, the Deep Roads fortune, the money she’d given away so generously and so carelessly. What she’d left in Kirkwall had been confiscated of course, and the mansion burned to the ground by a mob in those dark early days after she’d fled. He wondered if she knew. 

“Captain.” He said, calling the man over. “Mistress…” He looked at Anabel, realizing he didn’t know what she was calling herself these days.

He saw her swallow. “Ana.” She told him. 

He gave a short bitter laugh. Ana. The pet name only he had called her. Oh, that was rich. “Mistress Ana and her daughter will be joining us at the inn. Get them a room.” The man seemed to hesitate. “Is there a problem with that, Captain?” 

“We were only able to get two rooms at the inn, Your Highness. They’re full up. The fair…” 

Had she not been calling herself by that name, his reply might have been different. With a cold glint in his eye he informed the man. “Mistress Ana and her daughter can share my room. Have them make up a pallet for the child on the floor.”

His Captain frowned. “Will you be sharing with us then, Your Highness?”

“No.” He said shortly. “I’m sure the bed in my room has more than enough room for two.” 

He wasn’t sure who looked more shocked and surprised, Anabel, or his Captain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pictures and such relating to A Chance Encounter can be found on my tumblr: 
> 
> [A Chance Encounter photo/style references](http://penthesilea1623.tumblr.com/search/A+Chance+Encounter)


	3. Guests of the Prince of Starkhaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anabel and Elin are Sebastian's guests for the night.

“I’m sure the bed in my room has more than enough room for two.” 

Anabel was the first to recover from the words and Sebastian saw her nostrils flare and her eyes flash with anger, and he smiled at her, coldly, glad that he’d made her angry. Anything was better than the sorrow and the pity and the regret that had been there a few moments ago. She didn’t get to regret the choice she made five years ago. And she certainly didn’t get to pity him.

She saw the smile and her eyes flashed again but instead of objecting she turned to her daughter. “Would you like that sweetheart? To stay the night at the Inn?”

Elin lifted her head from Anabel’s shoulder and eyed Sebastian warily. “With him?” She asked. 

Anabel pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t say ‘him’, darling. His name is Sebastian.” 

Sebastian’s captain bristled at the familiarity. “This is Prince Sebastian Vael of Starkhaven, the Hand of Justice for the Divine. You will show him the respect his title deserves, Mistress.” 

Elin tightened her arms around her mother’s neck and hid her face again. 

Anabel raised an eyebrow at the man. “It’s the man who earns my respect, Captain, not the title, no matter how impressive it might be.” 

It was such a typical Anabel statement that Sebastian could almost have smiled. 

She turned back to him and her eyes flickered momentarily to the sunburst medallion which hung from the heavy gold chain around his neck and then back up to his face, and her expression softened. 

She remembered when those cold blue eyes and been serene and peaceful and kind. He’d been the kindest man she’d ever known, one of the few truly good people she’d met in Kirkwall. She spoke again, and though her words were directed to the Captain, her eyes remained fixed on Sebastian. “But happily the two coincide in this case: whether or not he believes it, His Highness has always had my respect.” She was responsible for the change in him, and now she had to deal with the consequences. She shifted Elin on her hip. “I’m assuming you’d prefer I closed my stand and packed up my wares for the day?” She asked Sebastian. Without waiting for him answer she turned and walked away towards what he could only assume was her stand. 

His men looked at him, uncertain of what to do. 

She still brazened things out, he thought, and he could help but have a grudging admiration for her. “Assist Mistress Ana in packing up her goods and then escort her to the Inn.” He told them and they quickly hurried after her. “And Captain.” Sebastian called out. 

The man turned immediately. “Yes Your Highness?” 

Sebastian watched Anabel’s retreating figure, saw as she shifted her daughter on her hip again. She seemed almost too small to be carrying the child. Strange that he’d forgotten how small she was. He turned back to his Captain. “Mistress Ana and her daughter are my guests. They are to be treated as such.” 

A flicker of curiosity cross the man’s face and disappeared almost instantly. “Yes, Your Highness.” He said.

Anabel looked up from the crate she was packing with carefully wrapped potion bottles as the four men joined her. She’d put Elin down but the girl was clinging to her, and peeked around her skirts to stare at them. 

When she didn’t speak the Captain cleared his throat. “His Highness has told us we’re to help you pack up your things and escort you and the little one to the Inn, Mistress Ana.” He had the same Starkhaven accent as Sebastian. It had been years since she’d heard one. 

She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it.

“That’s very kind of His Highness.” She replied politely. “There isn’t much. Just those boxes and this one to load on the cart.” She said gesturing to a small wooden cart. Her stand was at the edge of the market, when of the less desirable spots but it meant it cost her less, and it hadn’t affected her sales. An ancient donkey was tethered near it, eying them balefully. “If one of you could hitch the donkey to the cart I’d be grateful. He’s a bad tempered old bastard of a beast who’s not happy unless he’s gotten a good nip at me.” 

The Captain gave an order to two of the men and she turned back to her potions. She’d had a good day selling the teas and healing potions and salves that she’d made. Such things were more difficult to come by these days, now that so many Circles had been dissolved or annulled, and now that the templars were running wild killing any they even suspected were mages. She’d been so busy selling that she hadn’t noticed Elin wandering off. 

If she’d been less successful she wouldn’t be in this mess now. 

Of all the people for Elin to find… Anabel put her hands on the table and closed her eyes, suddenly overwhelmed. 

Sebastian. Sweet Andraste, how could it still hurt so much? It had been five years. How could he still affect her like this? 

_Why should it change?_ A small voice inside her head asked. _He’s affected you that way since the first time you saw him, and your feelings only increased every subsequent time you met over the next six years._ It had never made any sense. It simply was. 

She’d loved him. She’d realized it that day in the Chantry garden when he’d comforted her after she’d thought she’d lost Carver during the Deep Roads expedition. Comforted her and taken away some of that crushing guilt. He’d told her she wasn’t to blame. He’d given her hope. And somehow in the midst of that she’d looked into those vivid blue eyes and her heart had been his. 

She’d known it was impossible. There was no chance for them, no possibility for a future together. He was meant to be a Chantry brother, only his family’s murder had prevented it, and he still could. She’d stayed away from him, even though she suspected he felt the same attraction for her. The least she could do to thank him for all he’d done to help her would be to let him have that life he’d wanted so much.

So they’d gone their separate ways. They’d barely seen each other for almost three years. 

She’d moved on – wasn’t that how they put it? She’d moved on, and her friendship with Anders had turned into something else. It had been exciting and passionate and she’d felt completely cherished, almost worshipped, at the beginning. Before she quite realized what was happening, Anders had moved into the Amell mansion and they were living together. She’d expected her mother to be horrified, but Leandra had been almost resigned when it had happened and strangely enough their relationship – almost non-existent before she and Anders had become a couple – was suddenly a hundred times better. They had something in common for the very first time, and now that Leandra was no longer trying to marry her off they were finally able to talk to each other, about Da, about Bethany and Carver, about what life had been like when they’d all been together.

It had been her mother who had insisted that Anabel continue to attend Hightown functions, who had told her that even though she was no longer looking for a husband she should establish herself as a part of Hightown Society. Anders had refused to go with her to these events, alternating between claiming not to want to be a part of the vapid Kirkwall nobility and admitting he was uncomfortable with the same and didn’t want to embarrass her. So she went with her mother, or by herself. 

And that was how she met Sebastian again after almost three years. He was considering retaking Starkhaven, and as much as he disliked it he’d felt that reacquainting himself with the life of a noble, and making the connections he’d need to claim his throne were a necessary evil. He was pursued relentlessly by every eligible maiden and their mothers, all desperate to ensnare a prince for a husband. At the same time Anabel was being pursued by those so unscrupulous and so enamored of her Deep Roads fortune that they chose to overlook the apostate Grey Warden lover she had living with her. She and Sebastian had run into each other, quite literally, in a large storage closet in the Keep while they were both trying to evade their determined suitors. 

That strange inexplicable connection they’d always had was instantly there, as strong as before.

They’d returned to the party together and found that just being together discouraged their pursuers more than a polite refusal ever had. It seemed perfectly natural and reasonable to make the decision to attend these functions together. 

Anders hadn’t liked it, hadn’t liked it at all, and they’d had their first fight as a couple that night, though Maker knew they’d fought often enough before then.

She’d discovered what Isabela meant about makeup sex after that fight. 

Living with Anders wasn’t always easy; living with Justice even less so, and as the years went on and it became more difficult, it had been Sebastian she’d turned to when she’d needed a sympathetic, nonjudgmental ear. It had been Sebastian she’d gone to after the incident with Alrik, when she’d been so badly shaken by what had happened. It had been Sebastian who had realized that her wrist had been broken when she’d stopped Justice from killing that girl.

That had been the first time he had warned her against Anders. It had been the first time, when she’d defended Anders, insisting it had been Justice who’d attacked her not Anders, that he had told her angrily that they were one and the same and she was fooling herself if she thought otherwise. 

It had been the first time they’d fought.

She started when someone reached for the crate she’d been resting her hands on. 

It was the Captain. “I didn’t mean to startle you, Mistress.” He said apologetically.

She gave him a brief half smile. “I was lost in memories, I’m afraid. Thinking of quite another world. Another life.” 

In spite of the smile there was sorrow in those remarkable eyes, eyes that he’d thought blue, but now saw were both blue and green. There was sorrow and pain that you couldn’t help but see. He’d bet good coin those memories she’d been thinking of weren’t happy memories, and he wondered again how she knew Prince Sebastian. Had she been one of the Prince’s women before he’d joined the Chantry? She didn’t seem old enough for that. 

She saw him watching her as she busied herself with pulling the cloth from the makeshift table that had served as her stand: watching her too closely, too carefully and thinking far too hard about who she might be. She gave him a teasing smile. “Tell me something, Captain: Sebastian…” She started to say and quickly corrected herself. “His Highness only ever refers to you as ‘Captain’. Do you actually have a name apart from that?” 

He blinked at her, noticing for the first time the dimple at the corner of her mouth, and the fullness of that upper lip, and he realized suddenly that she was beautiful, and could only wonder that it had taken him this long to realize it. He couldn’t help answering that charming smile with one of his own. “I do, Mistress Ana. Jon Tavish of the Prince’s Guard, at your service.” He gave her a small bow.

Her eyes danced merrily. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jon Tavish of the Prince’s Guard.” Her daughter’s head peeked out from behind her skirts and she reached down and stroked Elin’s blonde curls. “This is Elin. Can you say hello, sweetheart?” 

The little girl stared up at him with large brown eyes, her face half hidden still and he crouched down and smiled at her. “How do you do, Mistress Elin.” 

The child gave him a shy ‘hello’ and hid her face again, and her mother laughed, a rich warm sound that made him almost shiver. “She’s becoming a bit shy of late, and she’s unused to soldiers. We lead a quiet life she and I. But she’s been enjoying the fair today.” She put the now folded cloth into the crate and began to lift it and he quickly took it from her. She walked beside him as he carried it to the back of the cart. “Tell me, Jon Tavish of the Prince’s Guard.” She said idly. “Have you served His Highness long?”

He nodded. “Since he reclaimed the throne of Starkhaven.”

Four years then. “And how is it to serve him? Do you enjoy it?”

“I’m not certain ‘enjoy’ is the right word.” He said carefully. “Prince Sebastian is my liege lord. We do the Divine’s work. The Maker’s work. We have purpose in a world that’s been quite mad of late. That’s quite enough for me.”

He saw her hesitate and then, as if she couldn’t help herself, she asked in a low voice. “Is he a good man?” 

He seemed startled by the question. “Yes.” He said without hesitation. “He’s not an easy man, mind you. He lives to stop what happened in Kirkwall from ever happening again, and to catch those responsible for it, the Abomination and his whore, the former Champion of Kirkwall.”

Luckily he was putting the crate into the cart as he spoke, and so he missed the look of shocked surprise and hurt that she couldn’t hide. She’d heard it put that way before of course, but it was infinitely more painful coming so casually from Sebastian’s man. Did Sebastian call her that? Was that how he thought of her now? Was that what had prompted his remark about sharing his bed?

Captain Tavish continued talking, not seeming to have noticed her reaction. “But even with all the responsibilities the Divine has bestowed on him, he rules Starkhaven well. He keeps his people safe. He’s a just ruler. A fair one.” 

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Thank Andraste for that at least. She’d been afraid his hatred for her and for Anders had changed him completely, that he’d been swallowed up by it.

That Anders hadn’t been the only one consumed and corrupted by Vengeance.

“Did you know him in Starkhaven, Mistress Ana?” The captain asked curiously. The prince wouldn’t thank him for prying into his personal affairs but he couldn’t help but ask. That they’d known each other at some point was obvious.

She shook her head. “No. I knew him when he was Brother Sebastian.” 

The man’s eyes widened. “You knew him in Kirkwall?” 

“Yes.” Her eyes were distant suddenly and the sorrow was back.

“Were you there when the Abomination…”

She cut him off. “Yes.” Her voice was hoarse suddenly, and he realized she was close to tears.

“I’m sorry, Mistress. Did you lose much that day?” His voice was filled with sympathy.

She looked up at him, eyes her brimming with tears. “Almost everything I had, Jon Tavish. Almost everything I had.” 

He was a hardened soldier and had seen death and loss many times before, but the pain in this woman’s eyes was difficult even for him to see. He started to apologize but she had bent and picked up her daughter, holding her tightly and burying her face in the child’s neck for a moment. When she looked at him again the tears and the pain were nowhere in sight. “Would you be so kind as to escort us to the inn, Captain Tavish?” She asked him with a polite smile.

 

Sebastian stood by the fireplace in his chamber fighting the urge to pace back and forth, and wondering what on Thedas was taking so long. Had she eluded his men? Surely that would be impossible even for her now that she had the child with her.

So where were they? 

There was a sudden knock on the door, startling him. “Enter.” He barked out.

The door opened revealing his captain. He stepped into the room, holding open the door for Anabel and her daughter and Sebastian felt himself almost sag with relief and he couldn’t have said why. He’d told himself it was so she could guide them to where she lived, so he could be certain Anders wasn't there, that she hadn’t been lying when she said she didn’t know where he was, but the truth was more complicated than that. Having found her after five years he wanted her near: he didn’t know for what purpose. 

Elin was clutching at her mother’s hand and as she looked around the room her eyes were as round as they had been in the Chantry. Had that really been only an hour ago? He looked at the room trying to see it through her eyes. It was the best room the Inn had to offer, large, boasting a four poster bed, and a pair of armchairs, a desk and a small table with four chairs around it. Sebastian had wondered briefly whom he had displaced. It was a respectable room but it didn’t seem particularly special to him. He wondered just how Anabel was living that rooms at an inn and village chantries should be such wonders to her child.

“Is there anything else you need, Your Highness?” His captain asked. 

Sebastian lifted his eyes to look at Anabel. “I’ve ordered some dinner, and a bath to be brought up for the child.” He told her. “Is there anything else you require?” 

He’d removed the black surcoate he’d been wearing and the heavy gold chain and medallion, and stood there in just a black linen shirt, dark trousers and boots. He should have looked less large and less intimidating but he didn’t. “No.” She said quietly. “There's nothing else we need.” Elin tugged urgently at her hand and when Anabel bent down she whispered in her ear, something that made a ghost of a smile cross Anabel’s face. “I don’t know sweetheart, but we’re guests, remember, it’s not polite to make demands.” The girl opened her mouth to protest and Anabel laid a gentle finger on her lips, before quickly caressing the side of her face. 

“Is there something she needs?” Sebastian asked.

She continued to smile as she looked at her daughter. “You’ve given her a taste for gingerbread I’m afraid. She was asking if there would be some for dessert.” 

He glanced down at Elin to find her looking hopefully up at him with those golden brown eyes.

 _Her father’s eyes_. He thought and he couldn’t keep the frown from his face. 

Seeing it, Elin retreated a little behind her mother. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, suddenly worried. It was her mother’s habit and it reminded Sebastian that she was her mother’s child as well as well as Anders'. Elin was an innocent in all of this.

“Captain.” He said, evenly. “Find the innkeeper. Make certain they include some gingerbread and any other sweets they might be able to find with dinner.” 

“Yes , Your Highness.” Captain Tavish put down a bag he’d been carrying by the door; a bag that Sebastian assumed must belong to Anabel. “It’s been a pleasure Mistress Ana.” He said to Anabel.

“Thank you for all your help, Jon Tavish.” Anabel said bestowing a gracious smile on him. The man left the room positively beaming, closing the door behind him. 

Sebastian was scowling again when he turned to look at her. How on earth had she charmed his no nonsense captain so quickly? 

The same way she always charmed everyone who met her. He’d forgotten that about her as well.

For a moment he and Anabel stared at each other. The room seemed to crackle with tension. He couldn’t think of what to say to her. 

Sensing something was going on Elin suddenly buried her face in Anabel’s skirt again.

He didn’t want her afraid of him. “She’s inherited her mother’s sweet tooth.” He commented walking over to the sideboard, not because he wanted anything to drink, simply to give himself something to do. 

“Yes.” Anabel softly said ruffling her daughter’s curls. “It’s all right sweetheart. I knew Sebastian a long time ago. He’s a friend.” Maker only knew if that were the truth, but it was a lie she was willing to tell her daughter. 

_He's a friend._ Sebastian closed his eyes for a moment, wondering if it could ever be true again. He didn’t see how but he found himself willing to pretend it was for the sake of the child. He poured himself some wine and turned back to her. “I always marveled that you could eat so many sweets and not grow as round as Lady Albermarle. Would you like some wine?” 

Before she could give him an answer, Elin piped up. “Mama doesn’t like sweets.” 

Sebastian raised a surprised eyebrow at her. “No?”

Elin shook her head. “No. She never eats them.”

“Not even chocolate?” He asked, but he was looking at Anabel now, not Elin. In Kirkwall she hadn’t been able to resist anything with chocolate and watching her eat it had tested his vows in ways few other things had.

“Especially not chocolate.” Elin insisted. “She always gives them to me.” 

“Does she?” He looked more carefully at the two of them looking at details he hadn’t noticed before. Their clothing was simple, but of cheap homespun fabric, and while Elin’s had a touch of ribbon trimming it Anabel’s was completely unadorned and though clean and neat the dress was frayed at the hem, and the fabric at the elbows of the dress was wearing thin. He thought he knew how she managed to get chocolates for her daughter. By denying herself. It shouldn’t come as a surprise. She had always put everyone else before herself. “No chocolates or sweets? That doesn’t sound at all like the girl I knew.” He said meeting her eye again.

Her cheeks had flushed under his careful scrutiny. “Tastes change.” Was all she said.

Before he could pursue the matter further there was another knock on the door and at Sebastian’s command it opened and two men carried in a small tin bath, followed by some maids bearing hot water, and another carrying a small child sized cot, and bedding for the same. Anabel dimly wondered if there were anyone left to tend to the rest of the guests. They worked quickly and efficiently and after informing Sebastian that dinner would be brought up shortly they left again. 

Anabel looked at the cot that had been set up and couldn’t help looking back at the large bed; a bed definitely big enough for two. She’d been hoping that sharing Elin’s pallet on the floor would be an option but this cot was meant for a small child. Had Sebastian meant what he’d said about sharing it before, or had he been trying to provoke her? Was he the kind of man who would force himself on a woman with her child a hand’s reach away? Had he changed that much? She couldn’t say for certain. She didn’t think so, but this darker fiercer Sebastian was a stranger to her. But unless she wound up sleeping on the floor they would apparently be sharing the bed. 

It didn’t matter, she told herself. Elin was what mattered now. Keeping her safe, not letting her know anything was wrong. It didn’t matter what happened to her, as long as Elin was safe. Her heart was pounding uncomfortably but she forced a smile on her face and crossed to the cot. “Look. You’ve a bed of your very own Elin.” She held out her hand.

Elin came to her side but was frowning again. “It’s for me?” She asked.

Anabel nodded. “See? It’s just Elin-sized. They must have been waiting for you to come and try it out. Why don’t you?”

Elin clambered up onto it but the frown remained. “But when Papa finds us he sleeps in my bed and you and me sleep in the big bed.” 

Sebastian’s head lifted at the child’s words and Anabel could feel his eyes boring into her. “You and I.” She corrected automatically, feeling her cheeks burning. “Sebastian has different rules.” 

In the way small children did she seemed to accept the reasoning. “And since we’re his guests we follow his rules.” She parroted. 

Anabel managed to keep the smile on her face. “Yes.” She said. “We follow his rules. Let’s get you ready for your bath shall we?” 

Sebastian barely seemed to notice as she disappeared behind the screen that had been set up in front of the small tub. 

Elin’s words were repeating in his head. _When Papa finds us he sleeps in my bed and you and me sleep in the big bed._

_He sleeps in my bed and you and me sleep in the big bed._

And what had she said in the chantry? That her father went away a lot, for a long time. That sometimes they didn’t think he was coming back and they moved somewhere else, or something like that. But he remembered what she’d said next perfectly.

_I think Mama gets lonely. Sometimes she cries at night when she thinks I’m sleeping._

_Sometimes she cries at night._ Sebastian tried to tell himself it was no less than she deserved, but all he could think of was Anabel crying at night when she thought Elin couldn’t hear her. Of Anabel constantly fleeing to new locations to keep her daughter safe. 

That Anders was as selfish a bastard as he had ever been to desert the two of them like that. He didn’t deserve them, either of them. 

He never had deserved Anabel.

He listened as she got her daughter ready for the bath and then watched in surprise the brown dress Anabel had been wearing was thrown over the top of the screen. 

He stared at it for a moment, hearing splashing and Elin’s excited squeals.

“Would you like me to leave the chamber?” He asked.

There was a moment’s silence and then she asked. “Why?” 

“Your dress. I thought perhaps you were bathing as well.” 

There was a pause before she answered. “No. Elin gets a bit enthusiastic when it’s bath time. It’s the only dress I have with me and I didn’t want it to get wet.” 

“Is she as enthusiastic as all that?” He asked.

“Clearly you’ve never bathed a four year old.” She said dryly. As if to emphasize what her mother had said there was a sudden splash of water and a shriek of delight from Elin. “Let’s try and keep some of the water in the tub all right, little beast?” Anabel said and he could hear the laughter in her voice.

Elin just giggled and Sebastian couldn’t help smiling at the sound. 

And then he went still when he realized what she’d said. Four years old. He crossed to behind the screen almost without realizing he was moving, and both Anabel and the child looked up at him startled by his sudden appearance. “When is her birthday?” He demanded.

Anabel’s face became a mask. She turned to Elin. “Play nicely for a little while, all right.” She pushed herself up from where she’d been kneeling beside the tub and it was only when she walked by him that Sebastian remembered she’d taken of her dress. She wore only an underdress, one of thin white cotton, sleeveless and with a low square neckline, as worn as all her other clothes seemed to be. He followed her to the far side of the room. “When was she born, Anabel?” He asked again.

She met his gaze steadily. “The third of Drakonis in ’38.” 

He quickly did the math. “You were pregnant that day.” 

He saw her swallow, and she ran her tongue over her lips before answering him. “Yes.”

“You knew you were pregnant?”

She blinked, suddenly incapable of speech. She nodded. 

“Did he know?” Sebastian asked fiercely.

“No one knew.” She whispered. “Just me.” She thought at first her missed cycles were simply stress and unhappiness, but as other signs had appeared she hadn’t been able to deny it. She and Anders hadn’t been intimate for months and then one night, shortly after she’d unwillingly distracted Elthina for him, he’d woken her by climbing into her bed and making love to her with all the passion and tenderness that had been there in the beginning. When she’d woken in the morning he’d been gone and when she’d found him in his clinic he’d told her it was all a lie, that there was no Tevinter potion to separate him from Justice. That he loved her but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t hurt her. 

That there were some things more important than love. 

She’d denied it vehemently and he’d simply apologized again and walked away from her. He’d stayed in the clinic after that and hadn’t shared her bed again. 

“You should have told me.” Sebastian said. His mind was reeling. He should have known. She’d been so melancholy, so worried about Anders and what he might be planning. She’d told Sebastian everything: about helping Anders find the ingredients, about Anders having her distract the Grand Cleric, about how it had all been a lie. They’d gone to Elthina together to try and warn her, but they’d been unable to persuade her to leave Kirkwall. 

But it turned out she hadn’t told him everything after all, Sebastian realized now. She hadn’t told him she was pregnant. He’d watched helplessly as she’d grown quieter and sadder, and she’d been ill as well he remembered. He’d thought it was worry over Anders. He’d never even suspected….Sweet Andraste, why hadn’t she told him? She should never have had to bear that alone. He would have helped her, taken care of her, her and the child. “You should have told me, Ana.” He repeated.

And strangely it was those words, spoken softly, gently, the way Sebastian used to speak to her, that started the tears. “Would it have made a difference?” She asked, her voice breaking. “If I’d told you I couldn’t kill the father of my unborn child, that even after what he did, I couldn’t face having to someday tell that child that I’d ended his life? Would it have kept you from leaving? Kept you from hating me?”

“Mama!” Elin called from behind the screen.

Sebastian stared down at Anabel. “I don’t know.” He admitted honestly. 

“Mama!” 

Anabel swiped at her tears, and pushed past him. “I’m coming, sweetheart.” 

He stood where he was for a moment, only half hearing Elin chattering away to her mother, and Anabel’s low responses, before crossing the room and pouring himself a brandy and downing half of it in one swallow. 

She’d been pregnant. 

She’d fought her way to through the city, had defended the mages, knowing it was probably a lost cause, had fought the templars and then the abomination that Orsino had become and then fought with the Templars against Meredith. He’d heard accounts of that fight from both Nathaniel Howe and Knight Captain Cullen. It had been brutal beyond belief, but the one thing everyone agreed on was how relentlessly brave she had been, how she’d fought to exhaustion. Cullen had let her go, given her a headstart, a chance to make it out of the city and Nathaniel had helped her flee Kirkwall for Ferelden, and he’d railed at both men when he’d found out.

And she’d been pregnant through the whole thing and none of them had known. 

She stepped out from behind the screen carrying Elin whom she’d bundled up in a towel so that only her face was visible. She crossed the room to her bag, trying to open it while balancing her daughter in one arm. Sebastian quickly crossed to her side. 

“Let me.” He said, gently taking Elin from her. Elin stared at him uncertainly and he smiled at her. “Did you have a nice bath, little one?” He asked.

Elin immediately smiled back and nodded enthusiastically. “I got Mama all wet!” She said happily. 

He couldn’t help laughing. “And that’s the mark of a successful bath is it?” He asked glancing over at Anabel. 

The front of her dress was soaked. The sturdy cotton was too thick to have been made sheer but it clung closely to every curve of her torso and he couldn't seem to look away. She looked down, and her cheeks turned pink but she simply pulled a wool shawl in a deep blue color out of the bag and wrapped it around herself. “It always has been for Elin.” She told him, not acknowledging the way he had been looking at her. She couldn’t seem to quite meet his eyes though.

He opened his mouth to apologize, though he wasn’t quite sure why, but before he could there was another knock on the door. 

“Come in.” He said. 

Captain Tavish opened the door, his eyes widening when he saw Sebastian holding the towel bundled child. He seemed to forget what he had been going to say.

“Yes, Captain?” Sebastian asked just as Elin freed her.hands and reaching out, began stroking his beard.

“Dinner is here, Your Highness, and the men to take away the bath.” He could only stare as Mistress Ana walked up to the prince with a small nightdress and a comb in her hands and took her from his arms. He hadn’t expected to walk in on such … domesticity.

“Very well.” Sebastian answered as if it was every day that he helped bathe a small child and let her play with his beard.

He barely noticed as the bath was removed and dinner set on the table. He was too busy watching as Anabel finished drying Elin off and dressed her in her nightdress before beginning to comb the tangles from her hair, answering her seemingly endless question with smiles and laughter, with hugs and kisses. 

He was overwhelmed by longing, not for riches or power but for the simplest of things. For this to be his child, and Anabel his wife, for this to be their life, the two of them together, caring for their child. 

Anabel looked up and saw him watching them. “You’re staring.” She pointed out. 

“Yes.” He agreed. His expression was unreadable. 

She turned her attention back to combing Elin’s curls. “Why?” She asked in a low voice after a few minutes. 

He waited until the men had left and closed the door after them before answering. “Because you’re still beautiful.” She was. Even with the cropped dark hair, in the worn drab dress, even too thin, and too tired. She was beautiful.

She shook her head. “No.” She said, denying it. 

It shouldn’t have surprised him. She’d never believed she was beautiful. And suddenly he found himself telling her the truth. “Because I thought my feelings for you had changed and now I find that they haven’t. Because just seeing you after all this time, seeing you like this, has made my heart ache all over again, and it’s even more painful than it was all those years ago. ” 

She looked up at him and there was something close to fear in her eyes. Her dark hair made the rich color of her eyes seem even more vivid and her eyes seemed huge in her face. She opened her mouth to say _Don’t. Don’t tease me with things that I’ve wanted for so long when they’re even farther out of reach than they were before._ She stared into those impossibly blue eyes that she'd thought she'd never see again. _Don't._ She thought again. _Because seeing you like this has made my heart ache all over again and it’s even more painful that it was all those years ago._

“Mama can give you one of her potions.” Elin announced suddenly. When both adults looked at her in confusion she explained. “His heart hurts, Mama. Your potions can fix it. ” She turned her soft brown eyes on Sebastian. “They’re very good potions.” She said earnestly. 

He couldn’t help smiling at her. “I don’t know if this is the kind of hurt that could be fixed by a potion, little one. It’s a hurt I’ve had for a very long time.” 

She seemed to consider what he said. “Maybe sweets would help. We could look and see if they brought any.” 

He laughed. “I used to have a friend who swore that chocolate made everything better.” He told her looking past her to Anabel. “Perhaps we should see if she was right.” 

 

They had their dinner, pretending nothing out of the ordinary had occurred just before. Sebastian told stories about places he had travelled in his youth, and Elin chattered on about her rag doll, and the lake by their home, and their garden. There had been gingerbread, and fruit tarts, and even some chocolate and after trying in vain to get her daughter to have some of the roast chicken or potatoes Anabel had given up and let her eat what she wished. It was one night. It couldn’t hurt to give her what she wanted for one night.

Elin was nodding over the table before they’d finished eating. 

“Come sweetheart. It’s time for bed.” Anabel told her.

“I’m not tired.” Elin protested. 

“I could tell you a story.” Anabel suggested as she lifted her off the chair.

“No.” Elin shook her head. “Sing.” She buried her face in Anabel’s neck.

“I could do that too.” She said with a smile. Sebastian was there before her, pulling the covers back from the cot, and she thanked him with a smile that seemed almost shy. She lay her daughter down and settled the covers around her, kneeling down next to the cot and smoothing her hair back from her face. “What should I sing?” She asked. 

“Dream Angus.” Elin muttered sleepily. 

Sebastian had turned to go back to the table but stopped when he heard Elin’s request. He turned back in surprise. Dream Angus was a Starkhaven lullaby. He’d taught it to Anabel, sung it for her when her mother had died, and then when she was so ill after her battle with the Arishok.

_“Can you not hush your weeping?_  
_All the birds are sleeping._  
_Birdies are nestling, nestling together_  
_Dream Angus is hurtling o’er the heather._  
_Dreams to sell, fine dreams to sell_  
_Angus is here with dreams to sell_  
_Hush my dear baby and sleep without fear_  
_Dream Angus has brought you a dream, my dear.”_

He walked slowly back to them. He’d forgotten how sweet Anabel’s voice was when she sang. She looked up as he came to her side. She didn’t stop her singing but her eyes we’re glassy with unshed tears. Elin’s eyes slowly drifted closed and Anabel let the song trail off. 

“Dream Angus.” He said softly.

“It’s her favorite.” Anabel said simply looking down at her daughter. “It soothes her when she’s upset, and helps her sleep when she can’t.” 

“Like her mother.” He murmured. 

She couldn’t help a small laugh. “Yes. Like her mother.” She looked up at him and her face was serious again. “What are you going to do with us Sebastian?” 

He stared at her for a moment. “Escort you back to your home. Make certain you were telling me the truth about him not being there.”

She nodded. “And if you find I’ve been telling you the truth?” 

They watched each other, unblinking.

“Then I’ll leave you and your daughter to your lives.” Sebastian finally said. He saw her whole body relax, releasing a tension he hadn’t realized she’d been holding and then even as he watched it was back again.

She was looking down at her hands. “And tonight?” She asked quietly. When he didn’t answer she glanced up at him. 

He crossed the room suddenly and opened the door. The two men who had been guarding it leapt to attention. “Have someone clear the dishes away.” He told them. 

In no time at all the dishes were being cleared, and the maids were turning down the bed. Anabel remained where she was, watching her daughter sleep. Captain Tavish had returned with the guards and he was the last to leave the room.

“I hope you find the bed comfortable, Mistress Ana, Your Highness.” His face blanched when he realized what he’d said, what he’d implied… “My apologies, I didn’t mean…” 

Anabel had turned away, her cheeks flaming. 

“Good Night, Captain.” Sebastian said harshly.

The man quickly left, closing the door behind him. They heard a snigger of laughter through the closed door, and Captain Tavish’s sharp reprimand. 

The silence was overwhelming. 

“I’m sorry Anabel. I apologize for my men.”

She gave a small shrug. “You can’t blame them. What did you think they’d assume after your remark about your bed being big enough for two?” She asked. Her voice was cold. 

“I was angry.” He told her. 

She still didn’t look at him. “You were right in what you said before. People want me dead for what happened in Kirkwall. And I can’t say that I blame them.” She was standing by the cot, looking at Elin. “But no one knows about her. Even our friends who found out I was pregnant after we’d left Kirkwall don’t know if she was born. Don’t know if the baby was a boy or a girl. Only you know that she’s alive and healthy. Only you know her name. Her safety is in your hands.” She reached out and touched her daughter's golden curls. “There are people out there who would kill her without hesitating just because of who her parents are. People who would use her to draw her father out of hiding. I won’t let that happen. I will do anything to keep that from happening.” She said fiercely. “I will do anything to keep her safe.” She glanced over at the bed and then back at him. “Anything.” She repeated. 

He could only stare at her for a moment and then suddenly he was standing directly in front of her. “Do you truly think me capable of that?” He demanded. His voice was low and he had to struggle to keep from raising it, from shouting the words at her. “Do you think that I would force myself on a woman, blackmail her with her child’s safety with that child sleeping right next to us?” He grabbed her by the shoulders “Do you think I’ve become such a monster?” His voice cracked on the last words, and he felt tears on his cheeks before he even realized he was crying. 

She saw them and her whole face seemed to crumple. She shook her head. “No. Not you. No.” And she was weeping as well and they were clinging to each other, her arms wrapped tight around his neck, and his around her back so tightly that she could barely breathe, but she didn’t care because he was here, and his arms were around her and this, this was what had been missing from her life the last five years. 

Eventually the tears stopped and they finally, reluctantly loosened their hold on each other. Sebastian pulled back slightly, and reached up a hand to brush away her tears. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. That I left you.” 

She rested her head against his chest. “I should have told you everything.” She said. She was suddenly weary beyond belief. She could hear Sebastian’s heartbeat and his arms were still around her. She hadn’t felt so safe in a very long time. She could rest here for days, weeks even. She let her eyes close. 

“You’re exhausted.” She heard him say.

She gave a small laugh. “I’ve been exhausted for years now.” She told him, only half joking. 

His hand stroked her hair. “Sleep now then.” He told her. “Here, with me. You’ve nothing to fear, I promise.” 

“Sleep without fear?” She asked quoting a line from the lullaby. 

“Yes.” He said and when she looked up at him his eyes were that same calm blue she remembered, that blue she’d dreamed of and wept over and she found herself nodding.

“Yes.” She agreed. “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pictures and such relating to A Chance Encounter can be found on my tumblr: 
> 
> [A Chance Encounter photo/style references](http://penthesilea1623.tumblr.com/search/A+Chance+Encounter)
> 
> And for those curious as to what it sounds like here is a video of the lullaby [Dream Angus](http://penthesilea1623.tumblr.com/post/95053806547/jackie-oates-dream-angus)


	4. An Escort Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian and his men escort Anabel home.

Anabel had fallen asleep almost as soon as she put her head on the pillow. She’d been exhausted, physically and emotionally, too tired to even feel awkward or uncomfortable when Sebastian had taken her by the hand and led her to the bed, slipping her shawl from her shoulders, and then crouching in front of her to remove her worn leather shoes. She’d lain down, barely noticing when he’d climbed in next to her and pulled her into his arms. She’d gone more than willingly, dimly marveling at just how right it felt and then had drifted off, lulled by the gentle thump of his heartbeat beneath her ear. 

Sleep hadn’t come as easily for Sebastian. There were only a handful of times he had let himself hold Anabel Hawke; after her mother’s death, and when she’d been so ill after her fight with the Arishok. 

When she’d found out that having a child with Anders was all but impossible.

He’d been working in the Chantry’s garden when she’d suddenly appeared there. He’d straightened up with a relieved smile at the sight of her. She’d been away for over a fortnight, dealing with some renegade carta dwarves that had attacked her in her house, and her brother at the Warden Keep in Ansburg. He’d started to call out a greeting and then he’d seen the expression on her face. He’d immediately started moving towards her, asking her what was wrong, what had happened. She hadn’t answered, had just burst into tears and flung herself into his arms, clinging to him, crying as if her heart would break. He’d held her in his arms, soothing her until she’d been calm enough to speak. 

After four years with Anders she’d discovered that, short of a miracle, there would be no children – something to do with the Warden’s Joining and the taint. It hadn’t even been Anders who had told her, it came out, but Carver. Anabel had been heartbroken, absolutely devastated by the revelation. Sebastian had done his best to clean up Anders’ mess, to remind her that impossible things happened every day, that even if she didn’t have children of her own there were hundreds of children in Kirkwall alone who needed parents, but the truth was he’d felt utterly ineffectual, useless, offering platitudes and pat solutions, offering her reasons to stay with Anders when in truth he’d wanted nothing more than to grab her, kiss her and tell her she was far too good for him, that if she wanted children he would give them to her, as many as she wanted, give her children and love her and cherish her and care for her as Anders never would, and never could. 

He hadn’t of course. He’d held her until the tears had stopped, and then escorted her back to her home. Anders hadn’t been there and he’d left her there, alone.

Would things be different now if he had acted differently? It was a game of ‘what if” that he had been playing for more than five years now.

He couldn’t help looking over at Elin lying there on the cot. Anabel had gotten her miracle, and Sebastian couldn’t help but be glad for her even as he remembered the circumstances under which she was raising this child, on the run, constantly moving around and apparently, for the most part, alone. 

And Maker help him he didn’t know how to make it better now any more than he had back then. 

He finally drifted off only to be awoken just as the room was getting light when Elin climbed up onto the bed, using his shirt to pull herself up. She knelt next to him looking at her mother, who was pressed to his side, her head on his chest, his arm still around her. 

Sebastian lay there, uncertain what to do. Not wanting to scare her, he pretended he was still asleep. To his surprise, she lay down on his other side, wriggling under his arm, mirroring her mother’s position. She didn’t remain like that for long, however. After a moment she sat up again and then shifted to her stomach, lying half on top on his chest and began singing under her breath while playing with the ties of his shirt. Unable to keep up the pretense of sleep any longer opened his eyes to find her face less than a foot from his.

She stopped singing when she saw his eyes were open and stared solemnly at him for a few seconds before announcing. “You slept in your clothes.”

He couldn’t help smiling at her. “I’m afraid I did.” He hadn’t wanted Anabel to think that he expected some sort of sexual payback for their safety. Leaving on his shirt and trousers instead of changing into sleeping garments or stripping down to his smalls as was his usual practice seemed the easiest way to show it. Not that she had even noticed. She’d barely stirred the whole night and he couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since she’d felt secure enough to do that?

Elin saw him glance at her mother and quickly put her finger on his mouth. “Shhh. Mama’s sleeping.”

“Well we wouldn’t want to wake her would we?” He whispered. 

She seemed to think about it. “No. But I’m awfully hungry. We might have to.” 

“Oh I think we could probably manage breakfast without her, little one.” He lifted her off of him and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. To his surprise she threw herself on his back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Piggyback.” She demanded. 

He couldn’t help laughing. In the last five years he’d developed a fearsome reputation: he was able to silence men with just a look, and make them cower in fear with so little effort that it worried him at times.

And here was Elin, four years old, completely unintimidated and entirely unafraid. Her mother’s daughter indeed. He did as she asked, startling the guard outside the door by appearing with a small child clinging to his back, both of them laughing as he told the man to see that breakfast was sent up. 

By the time Anabel woke up, he and Elin were sitting at the table, a generous breakfast spread out in front of them, deep in conversation. Elin was still in her nightdress but Sebastian was fully dressed. He’d changed into a white shirt today, though the heavy black coat was still tossed over one of the armchairs. 

Sebastian saw her stir and smiled. “Good Morning.”

She ran her hand through her hair feeling unaccountably shy for some reason. “Good Morning.” She’d spent the night in bed with Sebastian. _Maker what if she’d snored or drooled on him?_

She couldn’t believe that given the situation they were in that had been her first thought. She thought she’d grown up these last few years; apparently she’d been fooling herself. She glanced at Elin who was half on top of the table reaching for another pastry. “I’m sorry if she woke you.” She told Sebastian.

“Not at all. Mistress Elin and I have been having a lengthy discussion about the merits of blueberry tarts versus apple tarts. Come join us.” 

“Join us, Mama!” Elin echoed.

He looked and sounded like the man she remembered from Kirkwall, in spite of the long hair, tied back this morning, and the beard. His smile was as warm, his voice as calm and gentle, and perhaps it was the white shirt but even his eyes seemed bluer. Only the heavy gold chain he still wore around his neck was a reminder that he wasn’t simply Brother Sebastian, not any more. He was the Hand of Justice for the Divine. She needed to remember that, she thought looking at that medallion.

“Anabel.” Sebastian called her name softly and she lifted her eyes to his face. “Come have breakfast with us.” He coaxed gently. 

She slipped out of bed, picking up her shawl and wrapping it around her shoulders as she crossed to the table. She bent and kissed the top of Elin’s head before lifting her and putting her back in her chair. “Let’s try and eat at the table rather than on top of it, shall we, love?” 

“Sebastian think apple tarts are better than blueberry.” Elin informed her. “I told him he was wrong.”

“With a little more finesse that that I hope. Honestly, Elin. Sebastian will think I’ve taught you no manners at all.” She said, turning to look at him. “I’m sorry, if she’s been impossible. I’m raising a tiny barbarian I’m afraid.”

“I’ve always been rather partial to both tiny barbarians and impossible young ladies.” There was a hint of the twinkle he used to have in his eyes and she felt her cheeks turn pink. He stood and held out a chair for her, and she slipped into it. 

“Elin said you only drink tea these days but I had them bring up some coffee as well.” The idea of Anabel without her coffee had been startling. In Kirkwall she’d always sworn she couldn’t do without it. Another thing she’d deprived herself of, along with sweets and new clothes. “Which would you like?”

“Coffee, please.” It was a luxury these days. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had some. He passed her the cup and she took a sip. Sweet Andraste, she’d missed it.

“Which do you like better, Mama, apple tarts or blueberry tarts?”

“Oh there’s no question about it.” Anabel answered, picking up a napkin and wiping some blueberry from her daughter’s face. “Raspberry.” 

Sebastian started laughing at Elin’s outraged expression. 

“That isn’t one of the choices!” Elin insisted.

“But they’re the best ones.” Anabel teased. 

“So that’s one vote for apple,” Sebastian said. “One for blueberry and one for raspberry. It seems we have a tie, little one.”

Elin’s face lit up suddenly. “No we don’t! Papa and Justice both like blueberry best, so blueberry wins!” She announced triumphantly.

It was as if ice water had been suddenly thrown on them both.

Sebastian could have handled the mention of her father but it was the name Justice, bandied about so casually that shocked him to the core. It had never occurred to him that Justice would have had any dealings with the child. Anabel was watching him fearfully and Elin was looking back and forth between the two adults, aware that her words had done something, but not understanding what.

“Sebastian…” Anabel started to say. 

Sebastian held up his hand to silence her. He didn’t look at her. After a moment he rose to his feet. “If you’ve finished with your breakfast we should be on our way.”

His voice was that of a stranger. He picked up his coat from the chair and slipped it on, fastening it and then carefully arranged the heavy gold chain with its chantry medallion on top. There was a stiffness to his movements that hadn’t been there before, a stiffness that told her he was struggling to control his emotions. “I’ll leave you to get ready. We’ll depart as soon as you have.” He looked at her finally and the warmth had vanished from those blue eyes. Her Sebastian was gone, replaced once again by the Divine’s loyal servant. He left the room, closing the door behind him and she heard him giving orders to the guards. 

She couldn’t seem to move, could only to sit there staring at the door.

Maker, she was a fool. 

She’d let herself pretend. Let herself forget everything that had happened. Let herself believe that he could ever forgive her, that he would be her friend again, or even something more than that. She could almost laugh at that thought. It was a child’s dream, a fairy tale, and by this point, at her age, after all that happened she should have put aside dreams and fairy tales both. 

Her throat was so tight with unshed tears that it actually hurt. _Fool_ , she thought again. 

A hand slipped into hers. “Is Sebastian mad at me?” Elin’s voice was small.

Anabel stroked her hair. “No sweetheart, not at you.” She said with as reassuring a smile as she could muster. 

“Is he mad at Papa?”

Anabel didn’t know why she bothered to try and hide things from her daughter sometimes: she picked up on even the most subtle clues, though she supposed Sebastian’s reaction, and hers for that matter, hadn’t been that subtle. “Why would you think that?”

“He went all cold when I said Papa and Justice like blueberry tarts.” Her daughter’s face seemed suddenly all eyes. “Was Papa friends with him too?” 

_No. Never._ “They knew each other, but they weren’t ever really friends.” She busied herself with retrieving Elin’s dress. “Come let’s get you dressed.” 

She remembered the first time they’d met: Anders’ snide remarks about Andraste, and Sebastian’s unmitigated horror when he’d learned about Justice. She remembered the conversation she’d overheard between him and Fenris about turning Anders and Merrill over to the templars and how furious she’d been.

It had only gotten worse as the years went by: Sebastian openly voicing his support for Meredith and Anders not hesitating to let Sebastian know his true opinion of how utterly useless he thought Elthina was. 

“Why weren’t they?” Elin asked as Anabel tugged her nightgown over her head.

Sebastian stood on the other side of the closed door, waiting to hear Anabel’s response. He’d sent the guards off to see that the horses and Anabel’s cart were readied, and had been about to go himself when he’d heard Elin ask if he were mad at her. 

Anabel slipped the dress on her daughter, trying to think how to explain Sebastian’s and Anders’ relationship to a four year old. “They believed very different things about how the world should work.” She said finally. “And sometimes when you don’t agree about something you quarrel about it.” Someday she was going to have to tell Elin about Kirkwall. She was too young still, but Sweet Andraste when would she ever be old enough to hear what had been done that day? 

“Like what kind of tarts are the best?” Elin asked.

Anabel managed a smile. “Even more complicated than that I’m afraid.” She took out the comb and began untangling the golden curls. Curls like hers, but the color like her father’s.

“Did Papa and Sebastian quarrel?” 

Anabel’s hand paused, and she closed her eyes briefly. 

_You murdered her!_

_I removed the chance of compromise because there is no compromise._

“Yes.” Anabel’s voice was so low Sebastian barely heard it. 

He rested his head against the door. Five years later and he still had nightmares about that moment, still remembered it with perfect clarity.

_There can be no peace._

Anabel’s voice, filled with dread. _Anders what have you done?_

And then the roar and the sickly red light shooting straight up to the heavens. The explosion that left all their ears ringing. 

_Now we can all stop pretending._

He’d fallen to his knees shouting Elthina’s name, automatically offering prayers for those whose lives had been taken.

He’d dimly heard Anabel screaming at Anders, calling him a murderer. Heard Meredith invoke the Right of Annulment and Orsino’s protests. 

_Why are we even talking about this when Elthina’s murderer is right here?_ He’d turned to look at Anders seeing only the monster. _She was a good woman and you murdered her._

Anders hadn’t even looked at him.

Meredith had forced Anabel to choose and she’d chosen to defend the mages. They’d fought the templars, and he’d fought with them, believing wholeheartedly that Anabel would punish Anders.

And then she’d hesitated. 

_If I’d been in the chantry would you be waffling now? You know what must be done._ He’d screamed the words at her, not understanding why she didn’t act. 

And then she’d spared that monster.

He still remembered the betrayal and despair he’d felt. He’d gone cold. Had sworn he’d punish them all, had threatened to raze Kirkwall to the ground, the city that had been his home for well over a decade. 

_I will find your precious Anders and I will teach him what true Justice is._

And then he’d left, and she’d made no move to stop him, or to comfort him, had offered him no explanation.

And so he’d left.

His hand went to the medallion he wore. The Hand of Justice. He’d been the one to suggest the title when he’d offered his services to the Divine, hoping that Anders and Anabel would hear of it, would hear of it and remember his promise. 

“Are you sad, Mama?” 

Elin’s question roused him from his memories.

“How can I be sad when I have someone like you to give me hugs and kisses?” In spite of the words Sebastian could hear the tears in her voice, knew that she was crying. 

He put his hand on the door latch wanting to comfort her understanding her decision better now, but he didn’t open it. What could he say or do that could erase what had happened, when all of Thedas was still reverberating with it five years later?

And so he left, walking quickly down the stairs to the common room.

He’d send Captain Tavish up to fetch Anabel and her daughter.

 

Twenty minutes later he and his men, but for his captain were waiting outside the inn. Anabel’s donkey was hooked up to the cart, a feat that had taken two of his men and the Inn’s stable boy to accomplish The donkey was as bad tempered a beast as Sebastian had ever encountered and both the stable boy and one of his men had been bitten. 

He looked up when he heard Elin laughing. She and her mother were coming out of the inn with Captain Tavish and Elin was perched on the man’s shoulders. He was carrying their bag and looking at Anabel with an expression that was all too familiar. Was there anyone who didn’t fall under her spell? Oh, his captain wasn’t there yet but he was well on his way. When Sebastian had told him to have the men prepare to escort Anabel to her home he’d frowned. 

“Do you think there might be repercussions from last night?”

At first he hadn’t known what the man meant. “Repercussions?”

The man had looked uncomfortable. “There was some talk in the bar, Your Highness.”

He’d frowned. “What sort of talk?” 

Captain Tavish had looked as if he wished he hadn’t mentioned it. “Commending you on your choice of companion for the evening. Apparently several of the local men had tried their best to … win her favor while the fair has been going on. None had succeeded. Most of the comments were good natured enough, though a few…” His voice had trailed off.

Sebastian’s scowl had grown even more fierce. “Captain I grow tired of having to pry information from you. A few what?” 

“A few were less than pleased that your wealth had accomplished what their charm had not.” Captain Tavish said bluntly. He saw a muscle clench in the prince’s jaw. “If I could ask Your Highness, what is Mistress Ana’s relationship to you? When we found you at the fair with her you were arguing and yet you shared your bed with her.” The men had been stunned by that. Common belief was that though the Prince had left the Chantry he still held to his vow of celibacy. “Has she something to do with our mission? And if not then why go so far out of our way, four hours there and four back to escort her to her home?” 

The prince’s eyes let him know he’d overstepped.

“Who I invite to my bed and why is none of your concern, Captain, and we will escort Mistress Ana and her daughter home because those are my orders. Is that understood?”

Sebastian hadn’t raised his voice but he hadn’t needed to. The Captain snapped to attention. “Yes, Your Highness. I apologize.” He’d gone to carry out his prince’s orders leaving Sebastian wondering if his spur of the moment demand that Anabel spend the night in his room was going to make her life even more difficult. 

He watched now as Captain Tavish swung a delighted Elin off of his shoulders, placing her gently on the bench of the cart but when he turned to offer his assistance to Anabel, Sebastian stepped forward. “Order the men to mount up, Captain.” He told him curtly, moving to stand in front of Anabel. 

Captain Tavish obeyed him instantly.

Anabel was looking up at him uncertainly, with those jewel-colored eyes, sapphire and emerald. They looked even more vivid contrasted with her hair dyed brown. He’d meant to apologize for the way he’d left the room, but unable to stop himself he reached out and touched a dark curl. It was as soft as her hair had always been but he couldn’t help remember those flame colored tresses that had reached almost to her waist. “Your beautiful hair.” He said softly. His expression was almost wistful.

He saw a flash of hurt in her eyes, though she quickly hid it. She pulled free of his touch though standing as she was, between him and the cart, she couldn’t step away. “I’m in hiding Sebastian.” She said in a low voice. “My hair was the most memorable thing about me. Of course it had to go.” 

He looked at her, at those eyes, her lips, her skin, even with its current scattering of freckles, at the gracefulness of her figure. He thought about the way she moved, her laugh, her smile, the dimple at the corner of her mouth. There wasn’t a part of her he didn’t remember, wasn’t a part he hadn’t longed for for the last five years, though he’d never let himself admit it. “Every part of you is memorable.” He told her. “No one who’s met you could ever forget you.” 

She looked up at him in surprise and found his eyes filled with a longing so intense, so raw, that she almost couldn’t bear to see it. Something close to panic rose in her chest. He couldn’t do this, not here, not now. Not when it was more hopeless than it had been all those years ago in Kirkwall.

She looked away. “Luckily for Elin and me that isn’t true.” She said quietly.

He could almost have smiled. She had never believed the compliments she received however deserved they were. “I’m sorry for leaving the way I did. Hearing Elin speak those names…it was a shock.” 

Something about the way he spoke made her think he hadn’t quite gotten over the shock, but the fact that he’d offered the apology anyway made the ache that had been there since he’d walked out this morning ease a bit.

She put her hand gently on his arm. “I understood, Sebastian, but thank you.” 

He looked down at that small hand and couldn’t help taking it in his. The skin was rougher than it used to be, the nails cut short. He turned it over, running his fingers over her palm, feeling the callouses there, remembering when it had been velvety smooth. He couldn’t help raising it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the center. 

Just that touch of his lips made her shiver. _What on Thedas was he doing?_ She glanced at his men, half a dozen of them, clad entirely in black with the same chantry symbol Sebastian wore around his neck emblazoned on their livery, the golden yellow the only color in all that black. They seemed as confused as she by what Sebastian was doing. He pressed a second kiss to her palm, his breath so warm against her skin that she had to briefly close her eyes.

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t spend the next four hours with him, seeing him, longing for him all over again and then watch him ride away, knowing she’d probably never see him again, or worse still that if she saw him again he wouldn’t be the Sebastian she knew, but that cold frightening closed off stranger she’d met yesterday. Right now she could almost welcome that stranger. That stranger didn’t make her hope and yearn for things that she could never have.

She pulled her hand from his and when she spoke again her voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper. She couldn’t look at him. “Jon says you’re headed to Wycome after this, to book passage back to Starkhaven. There’s no need for you to travel in the opposite direction.” She pleaded softly. “I promise you, he isn’t there, Sebastian. We haven’t heard from him in almost six months. Please, just let us go.” 

He wasn’t certain which part he disliked most: her calling his captain by his first name, the fact ‘Jon’ had told her their plans, her attempt to dissuade him from escorting her to her home, or the fact that her skin beneath his lips had only made him want her more. 

Just let her go. As if it was that simple. He hadn’t ever been able to do that, not since the first time he’d seen her that day in the Chantry. 

“I can’t.” He said shortly. “Do you need help getting on the cart?”

Her shoulders fell and she looked down at the ground. She didn’t answer him, simply climbed onto the seat of the cart, taking up the reins and looking at him expectantly. 

After a moment he turned away, going to his own horse and mounting it. He nodded to Captain Tavish who gave the order, and they left the town.

 

It was slow going. Anabel’s donkey went at his own pace and neither carrot nor stick would persuade him otherwise. It was nearing midday when they came to a small farm and the creature suddenly perked up, trotting happily towards the barn.

Sebastian looked around him, puzzled. The farm was small, but not nearly small enough for one woman and her four year old daughter to run. “You live here?

Anabel had pulled the cart to a stop in front of the barn. “No. Henry lives here.” They were the first words she had spoken since they’d left the inn. Elin scrambled off the cart and went running into the farmhouse. 

“Henry?” Sebastian asked. She was angry with him and he didn’t quite understand why. He’d been too proud to ask.

“The donkey.” 

“He’s not yours?” Sebastian asked in surprise. 

“No, thank the Maker.” She said giving the beast a baleful look. “But his owner was kind enough to lend me him and the cart both.” She climbed down and moved to the back of the cart. She pulled the two crates she’d filled with what was left from the fair and began transferring what was in there into her bag, leaving half a dozen bottles and jars in the crate. 

The door to the farmhouse had opened and an older woman stood there. Elin was beside her, happily eating a cookie. The woman looked at the soldiers uncertainly.

Anabel gave her a cheerful smile. “We’re back a bit earlier than I planned, Hildy. These gentlemen were headed in this direction and offered to escort us.”

The woman cast a worried glance at the men, but seemed to accept Anabel’s explanation. “I see. Business was good, then?”

“It was.” Anabel lifted the crate and walked over to the woman, handing it to her. “Here you go.”

The woman looked at the contents. “Ana, it’s far too much.” 

“I did well, and I wouldn’t have been able to sell at all if you hadn’t lent me the cart. Is Marco around or do you need me to get Henry unharnessed and into his stall?”

The woman brushed aside her offer. “Oh, no need for that. Marco will turn up for his lunch any time now. You’ll want to be on your way.”

Anabel kissed her cheek. “Thank you. We’ll come by one day next week. Come, Elin.”

Elin gave the woman a hug and she and Elin returned to the cart. Anabel picked up the bag, slipping it on her back, took Elin’s hand and the two of them began walking. 

She assumed Sebastian and his men would follow them, and they did. 

 

After about a quarter of an hour Sebastian’s horse appeared beside her. She didn’t look at him.

“How much farther is it to your home?” He asked her. 

“About four miles.” She said, still looking straight ahead. 

Sebastian stared at her in disbelief. “You intend to walk four miles with a heavy pack and a small child?” 

She glanced up at him then. “I do a lot of walking.” She pointed out.

Sebastian cursed under his breath. Still as stubborn as ever. “Captain Tavish.” He called out.

In no time at all, Elin, to her great delight, was held securely by Captain Tavish on his horse.. The contents of Anabel’s pack had been distributed amongst several saddle bags and Sebastian was standing next to her, wondering if she were actually more stubborn than she’d been before.

“I’m perfectly capable of walking.” She insisted. 

“And my horse is perfectly capable of carrying us both. Now do I give you a hand up to sit in front of me or would you prefer to be flung over the back like a piece of luggage? Because I swear to Our Lady, that one way or another, you are getting on this horse.” 

Color flared in her cheeks. “Fine.”

Sebastian didn’t wait for her to change her mind, simply put his hands on her waist and lifted her up on the horse before putting his foot in the stirrup and swinging up behind her. He reached around her to take hold of the reins, and she went absolutely rigid. She continued to hold herself like that, leaning away from him, not touching him at all. 

They rode about a mile like that, without exchanging a word. Elin was happily chattering away to Captain Tavish just behind them, apparently oblivious to any tension.

“Why are you angry with me?” Sebastian asked softly. 

She wasn’t even entirely certain. _Because you insisted on escorting me. Because being with you makes me miss what I never had. Because when you leave me there I’ll be more alone than ever._ “I’m not angry.” She finally said. It sounded uncertain even to her. “I’m not angry.” She repeated more firmly. She lifted her chin defiantly.

He glanced down at her. Her expression reminded him of all the times he seen her stand up to enemies far stronger and far larger than she. Something about it had always reminded him of a kitten standing up to a large hound, puffing itself up and spitting and hissing its anger and then charging straight at its foe. “You used to be a better liar, Ana.” He commented.

“Well, I don’t get out as much as I used to. I’m a bit out of practice.” She was suddenly tired of pretending to be cold and distant and unmoved. In far too short a time they would be at the cottage she and Elin shared. He’d see Anders wasn’t there. 

And then he’d be gone.

How wrong could it be to let herself enjoy these last moments with him? What could she possibly have to lose? She took a deep breath and let herself relax, leaning back against him.

Sebastian looked down in surprise. He saw her hand reach out as if to touch his but she paused mid-movement and then started to move it back.

He didn’t hesitate, didn't stop to think if it was wise or not, but quickly transferred the reins to one hand and wrapping his other arm around her waist pulled her back even closer. If this was the last time he was going to see her he wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t want to hold her. 

She moved both her hands on top of it, holding it in place, so that even if he had wanted to move it he wouldn’t have been able to. 

He didn’t want to. She turned her head into his chest closing her eyes and he couldn’t help bending his head and pressing a kiss to her curls. 

They rode like that for close to an hour, with small touches and caresses, her fingers stroking his hands, his hand caressing her waist, pressed against each other, feeling each other’s warmth. Anabel gave occasional directions, but for the most part they rode in silence. 

They came to the crest of a hill, and Sebastian felt her stiffen and then straighten up so they were no longer touching. 

“It’s just up ahead.” She said quietly. 

His heart sank. 

They came to the top of a hill overlooking a lake. There was a small whitewashed stone cottage with a thatched roof and a ramshackle barn. Both had seen better days. The view was beautiful though. The lake had a beach, and there was a small boat pulled up on it. There was a barn, in worse condition than the house. As far as he could see there were no other houses in sight. “Does no one else live nearby?” He asked. 

She gave him a puzzled look. “That’s rather the point, actually.” 

You couldn’t quite call it desolate: it was too green, too beautiful for that, but he tried to imagine the Anabel he’d known in Kirkwall living here, the one who’d love being surrounded by friends, by people, by noise and conversation, who’d positively thrived on it and he had trouble doing so. Had she changed so much? 

The answer came immediately. Of course she had. They’d all changed, everyone in Thedas. But she had changed to protect her child. 

She began to dismount but he tightened his hold on her. “Captain Tavish.”

The Captain appeared beside them. Elin had fallen asleep against him. 

“Have the men check the house and the barn and the surrounding area. Make certain no one is hiding nearby.” 

The man glanced down at Elin and before Sebastian could stop her Anabel had swung her leg over and dismounted. “I’ll take her Jon, and thank you for looking out for her. I know just how much she can squirm when she sits in one place.”

“Not at all Mistress Ana. She’s a sweet girl.” He passed the still sleeping child down, and turning to the men, passed along Sebastian’s order.

They were in and out of the cottage in what seemed like no time at all. 

“You searched it thoroughly?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes, Your Highness.” One of the men replied. “There wasn’t much to search.” He gave Anabel an almost apologetic look. 

“Help the others search the surrounding area.” Sebastian ordered. “I’m sorry.” He said when the guard was out of earshot.

“What for?” She asked him. “He’s right, it isn’t very big. But neither are Elin and I.“ She shifted the child on her shoulder. “May I put her down in the cottage? She’s getting heavy.”

A part of him wanted to keep her beside him. Didn’t she realize he’d be gone soon? “Of course.” 

She turned and walked into the cottage without another word.

By the time the men had finished and he joined her there she had changed in to trousers and a shirt. But for the short dark hair she looked like the Anabel he’d known in Kirkwall. She was seated at a small table. There was a book in front of her but she wasn’t reading it. She lifted her head when he came in and her face was a careful mask. She didn’t speak.

“My men didn’t find anyone.” He told her. 

“No.” She agreed 

He didn’t know what to say to her. He looked around the cottage. It was only two rooms; the room they were currently in and a small bedroom in the back. He could see Elin in there, lying on the bed, still asleep. There was a narrow set of stairs up to a loft, but the loft itself looked too small to be used for anything other than storage. 

There were a thousand things he wanted to say to her but he didn’t know how to begin, didn’t know what it would even accomplish. After what had happened between them on the ride from the farm he’d thought….

He didn’t know what he’d thought except that he hadn’t thought his leave taking would be so cold. “We’ll be on our way shortly, then.” He informed her. 

“I told you he wasn’t here.” She said abruptly. 

“Yes.”

“And you believed me?” She asked in the same tone.

He hesitated for a moment before answering. “Yes.”

She lifted her head and stared at him before getting out of the chair and walking towards him. “So why drag your men out here? Why have them search the house and the barn? Why have them look for someone you claim you believed wasn’t here?” She stopped directly in front of him, glaring up at him, and before he could stop himself he had taken a step back. 

“I had to be sure he wasn’t here.” He heard himself say, irritated by how defensive he sounded. He didn’t know how she did it. More than a foot shorter than he was, and when she chose to be she could be completely intimidating in a way that was entirely disproportionate to her size. He’d seen it time and again in Kirkwall; men who outweighed her be a hundred pounds would retreat when she stormed towards them like this. The image of that kitten again came to mind. 

“Liar.” She said, her voice so low that at first he thought he’d misheard her. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides.

He stared at her for a moment. “Did you just call me…?” 

“Liar.” She repeated more loudly. “Either you’re lying about having believed me or you’re lying about why you came all the way out here. Don’t you realize what’s happening? Your men are done. In a few minutes you’ll get on your horse and ride away and in all likelihood we will never see each other again.” Her voice broke and she suddenly lashed out at him hitting his chest with both fists. “Stop lying to me! We don’t have time for lies! Tell me why you came out here!” 

He didn’t answer, and she made a noise of frustration that was half a sob and started to move away.

He grabbed hold of her wrist. 

She tried in vain to free it from his hand and when she spoke she was crying so hard that she could barely form the words. “Let go of me.” She tried to hit him again, but he grabbed her other wrist holding her securely in place. 

“Because I couldn’t leave you.” 

She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face and he repeated what he’d said.

“I couldn’t leave you, not so soon, not after so long without you. Not after seeing you. Not after holding you in my arms all night. I took the only excuse that was there. And now…” His hands tightened on her wrists. “And now…” He began again, but couldn’t finish the sentence.

She stared up at him “And now leaving hurts even more.” She finished for him. Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

He nodded his head slowly. “Yes.” He leaned down resting his forehead against hers closing his eyes. “Yes.”

It was Anabel who made the decision, who brought her hands up to rest lightly against his chest, who, when Sebastian lifted his head to look at her, went up on her toes and brushed her lips against his, just a shadow of a kiss. As much as she’d wanted to she’d never kissed him before. This might be the last chance she’d have. 

It was Sebastian who deepened the kiss, catching her upper lip between his, tugging gently on it as he’d fantasized about doing for so many years.

It was Anabel who tightened her hands in the front of his jerkin, who brushed her tongue against his lips, who gasped when he grabbed hold of her, pulling her against him parting her lips with his own.

And then it was both of them, tasting and teasing and exploring, and neither of them had ever felt anything like it and Sebastian tasted the tears on her cheeks before he realized she was crying again. 

He kissed her cheeks and her eyelids. “Don’t.” He implored, though truth was that he could have wept himself; with regret and frustration and the knowledge of what could have been if he’d been braver, if he’d only been able to realize what she meant to him and act. He bent and kissed her mouth again, gently this time, and there had never been anything so sweet, so perfect.

What he wouldn’t give for even a day with her. Just a day.

_A day._

He stepped back from her and she watched in confusion as he went to the door of the cottage. “Captain Tavish.” He called out. 

Anabel couldn’t see the guard but she heard him answer. “Yes, Your Highness?”

“How long is the journey to Starkhaven from here?” Sebastian asked.

There was a moment’s pause before the Captain replied. “Two days to Wycome. Depending on the ships in port, three or four days up the Minanter to Starkhaven from there.” 

“So six days on the outside. But we aren’t expected back until month’s end.” He’d pushed to get back to Starkhaven early, to take care of business there, so he could move on the next task the Divine had for him. It was how he lived these days, keeping constantly busy so there would be no time to think about what was missing from his life. "So if we were to leave today we’d arrive with three days to spare.” He turned his head and looked straight at Anabel. “Three days.” He repeated, but it was an offer this time. 

She drew in a shaky breath. Three days. Three days together. Her face lit up, with hope, with longing and the answer to his offer was there. He crossed quickly to her kissing her again, on her mouth, on her eyes, on her forehead and then on her mouth again, smiling as he did, a boyish light-hearted smile that made her laugh from sheer happiness. 

She wound her arms around his neck and he pulled her to him, lifting her off the floor, savoring the feel of her. _Three days. Just this. Dear Maker let me have just this._ He put her gently down, kissing her once more and walked out of the cottage. “A slight change of plans, Captain." Anabel heard him say. "You and the men will return to the village.” 

She heard the Captain protest, and Sebastian insist. 

She stood there waiting for him to come back to her, almost trembling with emotion, with need, not able to decide if she wanted to laugh or cry or do both at the same time. 

It was only three days. But when you thought you’d have no time at all three days was an eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pictures and such relating to A Chance Encounter can be found on my tumblr: 
> 
> [A Chance Encounter photo/style references](http://penthesilea1623.tumblr.com/search/A+Chance+Encounter)


	5. Three Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian and Anabel have their three days together and learn that three days can change your life in ways you never expected.

Later Anabel only had the haziest recollections of that afternoon. 

Sebastian’s men rode off, and on Sebastian orders they left the supplies that they’d purchased for their trip. They could replenish them in the village and Maker knew Anabel could probably use them, Sebastian thought as he stabled his horse in the run down barn and returned to the cottage with the saddlebags that contained his own things. 

Elin had woken up while he was gone and was chattering away to her mother. Anabel looked up and gave him a smile that somehow managed to be simultaneously shy and inviting. 

“Where should I put my things?” He asked her quietly. 

“In the bedroom.” She said. Her cheeks turned pink and she looked immediately away again.

“Are you and Sebastian going to share the big bed again?” Asked Elin curiously. Before Anabel could respond she turned to Sebastian and added. “You can have my bed if you want.” 

Sebastian glanced at Anabel uncertain of how to respond. How to tell a four year old _thank you for the offer but I’ve every intention of making love to your mother all night long and so won’t need your bed_. He’d thought he’d encountered every awkward sexual situation but a four year old whose mother you’d been fantasizing about for close to a decade, that was new.

Anabel pressed a quick kiss to the top of her daughter’s head. “It’s nice of you to offer, sweetheart, but I don’t think Sebastian would be very comfortable.” She told her. “He’s far too tall. Just imagine how often he’d end up banging his head.” She turned to Sebastian, explaining. “Elin sleeps in the loft. It’s her own special place.” 

Elin looked at Sebastian. “I can show it to you later if you want. But you’ll have to be careful. You’re very tall. Even Mama bangs her head sometimes and she’s much smaller than you.” She didn’t say anything else about the sleeping arrangement, seeming to have accepted her mother’s reasoning. 

That having been settled, Sebastian went into the bedroom to leave his bags and when he returned Anabel saw he’d left off the black coat and heavy gold chain of his office, and perhaps it was her imagination but he seemed lighter without them. It might have been the smile on his face though, that same smile that he’d worn in Kirkwall all those years ago, the smile that had been nowhere in sight when she’d first encountered him yesterday. 

She’d missed that smile and had thought she’d go the rest of her life without it. She’d longed for it, for the smile and so many more things she’d wanted for so long from Sebastian Vael, things she’d tried to ignore since the day she’d met him. He’d belonged to someone else, and then so had she, and so she’d pushed all those longings aside, denying herself, denying for a time that the feelings were even there, but now…

Now she didn’t have to: for three days he was hers and she was his. No more denying or pretending.

_At last._

It was that realization that made her suddenly cross the room to his side and slip her arms around him, resting her face against his chest, breathing him in and running her hands up his back, feeling the muscles beneath her palms.

She could do that now. There was nothing to stop her. 

His arms went immediately around her. One hand stroked her hair, and she looked up at him to try and explain and found she didn’t have to. 

“I know.” Sebastian told her with a gentle smile. He lifted his hand and caressed her cheek softly. “I know.” Her face showed every emotion she was feeling, happiness, desire and more than that, and she’d never looked so beautiful. He bent his head to kiss her and jumped in surprise when a pair of small arms was flung around both their legs.

They looked down and found Elin laughing up at them. “Hugs!” She proclaimed happily.

They couldn’t help laughing with her and Sebastian reached down and scooped her up in his arms and she squealed with pleasure. “I was wondering if you might be able to answer a question for me, Miss Elin. I couldn’t help noticing that there’s a very fine looking boat just lying on the beach by the lake. Do you know who it might belong to?”

“That’s our boat!” Elin said excitedly. 

“No!” He said, feigning surprise. “If only we had some fishing poles. We could take the boat out on the lake and catch some fish.” He’d seen the poles in the barn, and noticed one was child-sized and decorated with brightly colored ribbons that had reminded him of the ones Anabel used to wear back in Kirkwall.

Elin’s face lit up. “We do have them! We keep them in the barn! I have one all my own.” Elin squirmed down from his arms and began tugging on his hand, pulling him towards the door. “Let’s go fishing.”

“Will you come as well?” Sebastian asked Anabel.

She shook her head. “I’ll stay here if that’s all right. I thought I’d have a bath and then get started on dinner.” She said. She felt grimy and travel stained, both from the journey and her two days at the fair, but there were other reasons for wanting a bath tonight as well, and the flare of heat in Sebastian’s eyes when she glanced up at him let her know he’d thought of those as well. 

“We’ll leave you to it then.” He said in the same even tone, though the heat in his eyes remained. 

She thought about that heat as she washed in the small tin hip bath, and later when Sebastian and Elin returned from their fishing expedition. 

She’d changed into a simple blue skirt and a white cotton shirt that would have been demure had she pulled the drawstring tight, but she’d hadn’t. It dipped low enough in front that it showed the shadow between her breasts, and when she went up on her toes to get a bowl down from a shelf, it slipped off one shoulder. Sebastian came up behind her and reached the bowl down to her and then slid her shirt back into place, letting his fingers linger there, unable to stop himself from lightly caressing that pale bit of skin and all it took was that small touch for them both to momentarily forget how to breathe. 

Sebastian bent and kissed her cheek. “I’m going to have a swim in the lake and wash up as well.” 

“I can heat some water and take Elin for a walk if you want a proper bath.” She offered. 

“I think at this point a swim in a cold lake might have other benefits.” He informed her and left the cottage without a further word, missing the small pleased smile that curved her lips. 

She was still thinking about it when he returned from the lake with his hair dripping and his shirt clinging to his still wet torso.

She thought about it all through dinner as they sat across the table from each other talking easily about inconsequential things with Elin between them, prattling merrily away, and later as Sebastian told Elin a story while she sat on his lap on a chair in front of the fire. 

She thought about it when she went up into the loft to get Elin settled for the night, and as she sang her a lullaby, and as she stayed with her until she was certain that her daughter was truly, deeply asleep.

And she thought about it as she climbed back down the ladder, her heart pounding in her chest at the thought of what would happen when she reached the bottom.

She didn’t get a chance to reach the bottom, as it turned out. Sebastian’s hands went around her waist when she was still two rungs short of that, so when he turned her their faces were perfectly level. She found herself staring into those blue eyes, a blue that seemed almost to glow in the dimly lit room with that same heat she’d been thinking about all afternoon and evening. 

He left his hands where they were, not touching her anywhere else, and for a moment they simply stared at each other, but that moment was enough to make her heart race faster. Her hands found the ladder behind her and she leaned back against it for support.

“Are you nervous?” Sebastian asked quietly, his voice low to keep from waking Elin. 

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.” She told him breathlessly. “But it’s a good sort of nervous.” 

“Yes.” He agreed, still staring at her. These past five years he’d thought he must have exaggerated how beautiful she was simply because he’d wanted her so badly and for so long. The afternoon and evening spent at her side had reminded him that wasn’t the case at all, that if anything she was even more beautiful and more desirable. The grace with which she moved, the laughter in her eyes, and the warmth that radiated from them, the sound of her laughter and the curve of her lips when she smiled; somehow he’d forgotten those small things, and it was those which took her from merely beautiful to breathtaking. 

He’d never wanted anyone more, and that was the problem.

He closed his eyes, and swallowed hard, leaning his forehead against hers, praying for strength. He’d been thinking of this moment all day. 

Flames, he’d thought of it almost every day since the day he’d met her.

He’d wanted to take it slowly, had planned to touch and caress and kiss every inch of her, to make certain it was perfect for her before taking his own pleasure, though Maker knew he would find just that pleasurable enough. But now that the moment was finally here…

But now that the moment was here all he wanted was to be inside her, to feel her hot and tight around him, to thrust into her until he found his own release, and caresses and touches and preliminaries be damned. It was as primal a need as he had ever experienced, and he uttered a silent curse that he had denied himself for so long. 

How could he explain it to her, how could he say _‘let me take you now, let me just have you, please, let me be selfish this first time and I promise that I’ll make it up to you later’_? 

He couldn’t of course, but he wasn’t certain he had enough control remaining to do anything else. “Anabel.” He said hoarsely and lifted his head to look at her, to plead with her, to apologize and beg her to understand. 

She saw the conflicting emotions in his eyes and thought for a moment he’d changed his mind. “Please. Please don’t say no.”

“Say no?” He could have almost laughed at the thought. “I don’t think I saying no is an option at this point, Ana.”

She stared at him in confusion, not understanding what he was trying to tell her. 

“I don’t know if I can be gentle.” He finally said.

Her heart skipped erratically. She ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips and saw his eyes follow the movement, felt his hands tighten involuntarily on her waist, and she couldn’t have said which was more exciting, the words or the feel of his hands, but the two of them together… 

“I don’t need gentle.” She told him in a voice so thick with need that she barely recognized it as her own. “I don’t think that I want gentle.” 

His eyes searched her face trying to see if she meant what she said. He was afraid to move, afraid that he was imagining her response, somehow willing it into being.

She pushed slowly away from the ladder so their faces were inches apart again, and reached up a finger, tracing that perfectly sculpted upper lip and then slowly leaned her head forward, and ran her tongue along the same path.

And that was all it took. 

Suddenly he was kissing her, and it was nothing like their earlier kiss. This kiss didn’t ask, this kiss took, with teeth and tongue, with thrusting and biting, hard enough for him to taste blood, but her response was just as rough, just as un-gentle as his, and he couldn’t honestly have said or cared at this moment if the blood was his or hers. 

He moved his hands from her waist, to beneath her hips and pulled her off the ladder, not breaking the kiss. Her legs wrapped automatically around his waist and her hands slid into his hair and grabbed a hold of it so fiercely that he let out a grunt of pain and pulled his head free, before sinking his teeth into the soft skin where her neck met her shoulder. She arched against him so strongly that he nearly lost his hold on her but the movement had put her breast within inches of his mouth and he moved his hands to her back lifting her even higher so he could rake his teeth against the thin cotton that covered it. He stumbled away from the ladder and towards the bedroom still holding her like that, feeling her nipple harden through the material, and biting down harder, hearing her cry out, and as they stumbled through the bedroom door she reached down with both hands and pulled the shirt off over her head and the sight of those perfect breasts, small and round, the skin almost incandescently white, tipped with perfect pale pink nipples made him stumble and he had to reach out a hand to keep her from smashing into the open door.

When he’d regained his balance he kicked the door shut behind them and they fell to the bed together. He cupped one breast in his hand running his thumb over the nipple, watching as it tightened to a perfect peak. He bent his head to the other taking it in his mouth and sucking gently and then not so gently and switched to the first again and she arched up against him and then she was pulling at the ties of his shirt, yanking them open, her hands brushing over the skin she uncovered, running her fingernails through his chest hair and just that sensation was too much. He was rock hard and aching for her. 

He grabbed both her hands and pressed her back against the bed, pinning her hands by her head and stared down at her trying to regain some control. 

At first she couldn’t understand why he wasn’t letting her touch him, and why he wasn’t touching her anymore and she struggled against his hold until she saw his face and then she went completely still. 

His breath was ragged and his pupils so large his eyes looked almost black, the muscle in his jaw was clenched and she remembered what he’d said. _I don’t know if I can be gentle_ , but Sweet Andraste here he was, still trying to be. 

She stared up at him and slowly repeated what she’d said before. “I don’t want you to be gentle.” 

It took a moment for her words to sink in, and even then he hesitated, until she wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him to her, grinding herself against him, making them both moan.

In a flash he’d shoved her skirt up to her waist and pulled her smalls down with such force that one tie snapped and impatiently he yanked them out of the way, breaking the other tie in the process.

Never in all her fantasies had Anabel imagined Sebastian like this and somehow that made it even more exciting. 

He fumbled at the laces of his trousers and suddenly her hands were there helping him, and when they were barely opened it was she who shoved both trousers and smalls down, raking her nails along the skin she’d exposed before bringing her hands around and reaching for him, and he knew if she touched him he would never last. He pushed her hands back by her head supporting his weight on his arms, and moved between her open thighs. He could feel the heat of her against him, and he knew she’d told him twice already but he needed to be sure.

“Tell me it’s all right Anabel. Tell me I may.” His voice was barely more than a growl.

She didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry, all she knew was that she needed him inside her. “Do you want me to beg?” She asked him straining against his hold. “Tell me what I need to say and I’ll say it but please, please, by all that's Holy, please Sebastian, don’t make me wait any longer.”

She sounded so desperate that finally he let himself believe it. He bent his head to kiss her and moved forward as she lifted her hips to press against him and by some miracle they lined up perfectly and without even meaning to he was inside her, just the tip of him, and the realization stopped him moving and made his breath stutter. He looked down at her and her eyes were round with surprise and dark with desire. They stared at each other, barely breathing and then he bent his head and kissed and as he kissed her he thrust forward sliding all the way inside her.

She moaned into his mouth and her arms went under his arms and around, gripping his shoulders tightly as if she was afraid he’d stop. 

Dear Maker, it had never felt like this, tight and hot and slick as satin and gripping every inch of him and then he couldn’t wait any longer and he began to move, trying to control it, trying to prolong it, and slowly she began to move with him and it was even better than before.

And then he stopped being able to think. Everything was simply Anabel, the feel and taste of her, around him and beneath him and her hands clutching at the skin of his shoulders, where his shirt had slipped off. They moved together and everything was that connection, that friction, him moving between her thighs, not gently any more but thrusting deep into her in a way that he knew would leave her sore and perhaps even leave bruises, and that should bother him shouldn’t it? She didn’t seem to mind, didn’t seem to have noticed even. They were both covered in a sheen of perspiration. Her legs wrapped around his hips, letting him go even deeper and he threw back his head at the sensation. He wasn’t going to last much longer he knew.

“Ana.” It was a desperate cry. 

Her fingers dug in even harder. “Don’t…” She started to say, and had to stop as a wave of sensation swept over her. Her breath was coming even faster than before. “Don’t hold back.” She managed to gasp out, and then she arched against him letting out a cry and he took her at her word slamming into her, not holding anything back, and when he came it was an explosion of sensation that seemed to last an eternity, wave after wave until he collapsed on top of her trying to catch his breath. 

Her hands went to his head, her fingers running through his hair. 

“I must be crushing you.” He murmured. 

Her legs tightened around him. “No. Don’t move, not yet.” 

He lifted his head trying to look at her. “Can you even breathe?” He asked her.

She laughed. “No, and I don’t care.” She pushed his head back down and her hands continued to stroke through his hair.

He slowly became aware of things. That he was lying there with his shirt half on, and his trousers bunched up around his knees. That her skirt was wadded up around her waist. It hadn’t turned out to be quite the smooth seduction he’d envisioned and he couldn’t help laughing. “I think I’ve lost my touch.” He explained when Anabel gave him a puzzled look. “I used to have control enough to at least remove my trousers completely.” 

She gave him a lazy satisfied smile. “I think your touch is just fine. We were caught up in the moment and a bit out of practice is all.”

He rolled off of her and pulled up his trousers to regain at least some semblance of dignity, and then lay down beside her, pulling her up against him. He thought of what she’d just said and couldn’t keep himself from asking. “How long since you’ve seen him? How long has it been for you?” 

She stiffened in his arms, and then pushed herself up on one elbow so she could look at him. “Those are two different questions actually.” She said calmly. “It’s been a little over six months since we’ve seen him.” She didn’t say anything else, just looked at him, forcing him to say the words.

“And how long since the other?” 

“Five years.” She told him. 

He stared at her in surprise. “But that would mean…”

“The night Elin was conceived.” 

“You’ve not slept with him since then?” 

“Are you truly surprised by that? You knew what my life was like with Anders in Kirkwall, better than anyone. Do you really think it would have gotten any better after what happened? You weren’t the only one who lost people you loved that day Sebastian. Did you imagine us living in a rose covered cottage somewhere, planning rebellion all day and making love all night?”

He probably had to some degree. “I didn’t think…” He started to say. 

“No.” She said. “No, you didn’t.” She leaned over and kissed him suddenly, kissed him hard, and when she pulled away he stared at her in confusion. 

“You aren’t angry?” He asked. 

“I don’t have the luxury of being able to be angry with you.” She said simply. “We don’t have enough time for that.”

It was a stark reminder. One day was gone. They had two more left to them. “No. We don’t.” He agreed. 

Her face softened and she reached out to stroke the side of his face. “So stop thinking about it. Stop worrying. Just be with me.” 

“Yes.” He agreed. He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. “Yes.”

It was all they could do.

 

The time passed too quickly of course. 

The days were spent with Elin, exploring, rowing on the lake, taking walks in the woods nearby. They had picnics and read to each other, or told her stories. She was a happy child, joyful and wild and carefree and she enchanted Sebastian almost as easily as her mother had all those years ago. 

“She’s wonderful.” Sebastian said as they watched her spinning in circles on the beach until she made herself dizzy and fell down laughing.

Anabel’s eyes were warm as she looked at her daughter. “Yes. She is. I don’t know what I would have done without her. She’s my life. I have to keep her safe. That comes before anything else.” 

And he understood completely. Had he children of his own he would no doubt feel the same way.

 

The nights were for them. 

They’d wanted each other for so long, and denied themselves for so long and they knew how little time they had together, so they held nothing back. They told each other every dream and fantasy they’d had and fulfilled those they could. They explored every inch of each other without awkwardness or false modesty or embarrassment and they both found pleasure that exceeded anything they had ever experienced or expected. 

When they slept it was wrapped in each other’s arms and by some unspoken rule if either of them woke up in the night or early morning they would kiss and caress and stroke the other until they woke up as well, and then they would make love again. 

 

They were both quieter the last evening together, and when they retreated to the bedroom there was franticness to their lovemaking that hadn’t been there, even on their first night together.

They lay together after, her head on his chest, listening to the steady thud of his heartbeat, and she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

Their last night together. _The last night. The last night_. It seemed to repeat over and over in her head.

She didn’t make a sound and it wasn’t until he felt the tears fall hot against his skin that he even realized she was crying. 

He didn’t need to ask why. He turned them so she was on her back and brushed away her tears. “Don’t cry, Ana. I promise…”

She reached up and put her hand over his mouth. “Don’t.” She told him. “Don’t make me promises that can’t be kept. Don’t tell me we can be together. We both know that isn’t true. Not in the world we live in now.” 

She couldn’t truly believe that. “The world can change.” He insisted. “We can make it change.”

She gave a small shudder. “I’ve had enough of world changing. If the last five years have shown me anything it’s that the effects are never what you think they’ll be. Even Anders has learned that much.” She sat up and reached over the side of the bed for the shirt she’d been wearing, pulling it over her head. This wasn’t a conversation she could have naked. She needed clothes, pulled on like armor for this one. 

Whether she’d intended it or not the mention of Anders’ name brought the reality of their situation home more than anything else she could have said. 

When she turned to look at him his expression was bleak.

“So you see no future at all for us?” He couldn’t live with that. Not after the last three days.

“For the Hand of Justice of the Divine and the Abomination’s whore?” She asked cynically. He flinched at the title and she couldn’t help a bitter laugh. “Did you think I’d never heard that name? Your own men use it.” She swung her feet over the side of the bed. 

“I’ve never called you that.” He told her.

“You’d probably be in the minority then. It’s even in a song or two. That never happened when I was the Champion of Kirkwall. Or course it’s an easier rhyme isn’t it? Hardly any words rhyme with Kirkwall and even fewer with Champion. But Maker, there are a lot of words that rhyme with whore.” She said. 

“Don’t.” He said, his voice low. 

She gave him a resigned smile. “I’m just being a realist. It’s a lesson I learned late in life but it’s finally stuck, I think. Mother would be happy. She always said I was too much of a dreamer.” She started to stand, to leave the bed, but he got to his knees, reaching out and catching her wrist, pulling her back to him, and when she resisted he pulled her into his arms, holding her and forcing her to look at him. He hated seeing her like this, hated that she’d learned that lesson at all.

“No.” He told her. “I can’t believe we’d be brought together like this for no purpose, Anabel. I can’t believe there’s no hope. I won’t believe it.” He saw the tears well up in her eyes again. “I won’t let you believe it.”

She wiped impatiently at her eyes. “Hope and prayers and believing in miracles. You tried to make me believe in it before, that afternoon in the Chantry, do you remember?” 

He nodded. “Yes.” He remembered everything about that day. “You said you envied me my faith.”

She nodded. “Yes. I still do. I hear you talking about a future for us, about being together and I want to laugh because how could any sane person believe that could ever happen now?”

“Sometimes that’s what faith is.” 

“Insanity?” She said scornfully.

“Believing the impossible can happen. Letting yourself hope. You did it before, do you remember? When you didn’t know if your brother was alive or dead. Let yourself do it again. Let yourself do it now.”

She stared up at him. Those blue eyes were as steady as they had been that day. He truly believed and she didn’t understand how he could, but just the fact that he did… “It’s harder now.” She said in a voice barely above a whisper. 

“Yes.” He agreed. “But even more important.” 

He saw her waver for a moment. “I don’t know if I can.” She said helplessly. 

And then he thought of something, something he couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to remember. He let go of her and quickly crossed to his bag rummaging through it until he’d found what he wanted. Anabel hadn’t moved from side of the bed. 

He held something out to her. “This belongs to you.” 

For a moment she couldn’t seem to speak or move. A gold locket, her gold locket, with the flowers made of small amethysts, the one Sebastian had inexplicably given her the first day they’d met. 

She put out a shaky hand but couldn’t bring herself to touch it. “Where did you find it?” 

“At a jewelers in Hercinia about a year ago.” He told her quietly.

She was staring down at it. “I had to sell it.” She said numbly. “Elin was sick. I couldn’t leave her, couldn’t make any money. It was the only thing I had that would bring in coin enough.”

“ _He_ wasn’t there?” Sebastian asked carefully.

She shook her head. “I’d held on to it for so long. There were times we slept outside because we didn’t have money for an inn, or that I skipped meals, only buying enough for Elin to eat, and still I didn’t sell it – it was my last connection to you. But then the one thing happened that I was willing to give it up for…” She looked up at him. “You must have hated me even more when you saw it there.”

He shook his head. “I was confused, actually. I’d thought you’d have sold it years before. I wasn’t supposed to be in Hercinia at all at the time. I was headed by ship from Kirkwall to Ostwick. We were caught in a storm and lost a mast so we put into port at Hercinia. I was furious. I’d had a reliable lead that you and Anders had been seen in Ostwick. There wasn’t another ship leaving for days and if we travelled by horseback you would be long gone by the time we arrived. I remember stalking through the streets, ready to just give up, thinking that maybe the Maker didn’t intend for me to find you after all, and the thought was like a knife in my heart – not the thought that you wouldn’t be brought to justice, but the thought that I would never see you again.” 

She looked up at him in surprise.

He was smiling gently at her. “Yes.” He agreed. “It startled me as well. So much so that I actually stopped walking, in the middle of the street, directly in front of a store window. The locket was displayed there. When I questioned the owner, he said he’d purchased it a few weeks earlier. He couldn’t give me a description, claimed she’d worn a cloak with the hood up, and a mask over her eyes, but that she was small and well-spoken and I knew it was you. I took it as a sign that I wasn’t supposed to give up the search, not until justice was served. I think now I misunderstood the sign. I think it was a promise that I would see you again. That I would be able to give it back to you one day.” 

“I don’t believe in signs.” She told him, staring at the locket. But she didn’t sound quite convinced. 

“No?” He asked. “You wouldn’t have sold the locket if Elin hadn’t been ill. I wouldn’t have been in Hercinia if there hadn’t been a storm. I made a spontaneous decision to give my men an afternoon of rest at a small village in the middle of nowhere and seek out the comfort of the chantry there. You decide to sell your goods at a fair a four hour ride from your home and Elin wanders from your side and finds her way to the same chantry and leads me back to you.” He reached out and put his hand under her chin lifting it so she was forced to look at him. “Improbable, impossible things happen all the time, Anabel. I believe that we are guided in ways we can’t begin to understand. And I will never stop hoping that you and I will be together someday. I will never stop believing that the Maker can grant us that miracle.” 

He took his hand away and slipped the locket around her neck. Her hand immediately went to it but it wasn’t until her shoulders began to shake that he realized she was crying, crying as if her heart would break. He pulled her close and kissed the tears away, and slowly the comforting kisses turned to something else. He tugged the shirt she wore off over her head, and made love to her, stroking and caressing every inch of her, tasting and touching, committing her to memory before rolling to his back, taking him with her, and the image of her like that, moving above him wearing nothing but his locket throwing back her head as she reached her pleasure would stay with him for the rest of his life.

 

Morning came all too soon, and shortly after it Sebastian’s men. Sebastian went and spoke to them, had them saddle and load his horse before returning to Anabel and Elin at the cottage door. He knelt down in front of Elin.

“It’s been a very great pleasure visiting with you, Elin.” He told her. 

“Do you have to go?” She asked him wistfully.

“I’m afraid so, little one. I have obligations I have to see to.”

She nodded solemnly. “Because you’re a prince. Maybe we could visit you in your castle one day?” She suggested hopefully.

“I’d like that very much.” He said. He held out his arms and she gave him an enthusiastic hug that he returned wholeheartedly. He straightened up and looked at Anabel.

She turned to Elin. “Why don’t you get the berry buckets out of the barn, and we’ll go berry picking once Sebastian’s left?” Elin ran off and Anabel turned back to him. The heavy black coat was back, and the gold chain and medallion, but the man she used to know in Kirkwall, the man she’d been with for the last three days was there as well. That hadn’t been the case before. 

He reached out and touched the locket that she wore once again. “If you’re ever in need of aid send it to me. I’ll make sure those around me know what it means.“ He reached into his pocket and handed her a heavy purse. When she hesitated to take it, he added. “For Elin.” 

She accepted it but didn’t speak. He looked around him, at the cottage, and the lake and the boat, at this small idyllic place where she’d hidden her daughter away. His eyes stopped when they reached his men, waiting on horseback out of earshot and he realized suddenly…. _Sweet Andraste_. He turned back to her. “You won’t be here if I come looking for you.” It wasn’t a question.

She gave him a small smile and shook her head. “No. Not because I don’t trust you. But your men. If someone makes the connection… I can’t take the chance. I need to make certain she’s safe, no matter what.” 

“I’m sorry.” He’d cost her her home.

“It’s all right. We would have moved on sooner or later. It just happened to be sooner this time. Your coin will make it easier.” She looked up at him. “I wouldn’t change anything that happened these last few days. I love you. I was able to tell you that finally.” 

He bent and kissed her gently and her brave front crumbled. He pulled her into his arms and she came with small sob. 

He held her close while she wept, resting his head on hers, wanting to weep himself. “I love you.” He told her. “I’ve loved you since that first day in the Chantry. If I’d been a braver man perhaps it would never have come to this.” 

It was Anabel who pulled away, wiping at her tears and giving him brilliant smile in spite of them. “Don’t dwell on what ifs, Sebastian. There’s joy. And there’s hope.” She reminded him. “Sometimes when you least expect it.” She looked down at Elin who had returned with two small tin buckets. “Come, sweetheart. Let’s see what we can find.” Taking her daughter’s hand she turned and walked away without looking back.

Sebastian watched them for a moment and then returned to his men and mounted his horse. He watched until Anabel and Elin had disappeared into the woods and then turned and rode away.

 

_**Two years later**_

Sebastian walked into the dockside tavern alone. A packet with his grandmother’s locket enclosed had been delivered to the palace at Starkhaven several days earlier. He hadn’t been there at the time, but word had been sent to him and he’d immediately returned. There had been no letter just the locket and an address on a piece of paper and instructions to come alone. Against the wishes of his guards he’d followed those instructions. 

He looked around before heading up to the rooms. The place was dimly lit and smelled of cheap ale and wine, and other things as well. It reminded him of the Hanged Man. 

So perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised by who opened the door when he knocked. 

“Isabela.” Her hair was tied back, and she was wearing a captain’s coat and trousers, though they were skin tight and mostly covered by boots that reached to mid thigh. He hadn’t seen her since that day, though he’d heard stories of her of course. But for the clothes she looked exactly the same. “You never change.”

“I wish I could say the same for you, sweet thing.” She looked at him remembering the man she’d known in Kirkwall in his shining white armor, his bright blue eyes, always kind, always hopeful. He looked positively grim now all in black and those blue eyes were hard as steel. “She told me but I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“Is she here?” He couldn’t keep the hope from his voice.

Isabela shook her head. “No. Things have become dangerous for her. Very dangerous. She’s gone underground for a bit. If she’s smart we won’t hear anything from her for years.”

“If?”

Isabela gave him a reproving but not unsympathetic look. “We both know she’s not smart sometimes.” She walked over to the sideboard. “Would you like a drink? The rum's not bad here. And of course it’s Starkhaven so the whiskey’s decent as well.”

“No. If she’s not here why did she send me the locket?” He asked. 

Isabela put down the bottle and picked up a letter that had been lying there and handed it to him without another word. 

He opened it and read it.

There was no greeting.

_I can’t keep them safe anymore and there’s no one else I trust to._  
_I’m giving you the pieces of my heart you don’t already have. Take care of them. Protect them. Keep them safe._  
_If the Maker has any compassion at all I’ll see you all again someday._

It wasn’t signed.

Sebastian looked up at Isabela who’d flung herself into one of the chairs by the fire. “I don’t understand.” 

As if in answer, the door to the bed chamber was pushed open suddenly. A small boy stood there. He seemed barely old enough to be standing let alone walking.

Isabela smiled at him. “Are you up again, tiger?” She got to her feet and walked towards the door. “He’s an escape artist, this one.” When she reached him he held up his arms and she picked him up. He wound his arms around her neck and rested his head on her shoulder.

“You have a child?” Said Sebastian, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. As kind as Isabela was, and as generous a heart as she had he’d never thought of her as maternal.

“No. he’s not mine. Elin’s asleep in the other room. This is her brother.”

Sebastian’s heart twisted painfully. They were both Anabel’s children. “She reconciled with him?” He asked numbly.

“Maker’s tits.” Isabel muttered. “You men can be so thick.” She stalked over to him and shifted the child so he was balanced on one hip. “Can you say hello, tiger?” She said to him in a coaxing voice. 

The child turned his head though he didn’t lift it and looked solemnly at Sebastian with bright blue eyes that perfectly mirrored his own. 

Sebastian’s heart began to pound as he realized that the hair he’d thought was brown was auburn, though a bit brighter than his own, and the boy’s skin was tan, not as dark as Isabela’s or his even, but far darker than either Anabel’s or Anders’. 

They stared at each other for a moment and then the child reached out to him with both hands, so suddenly that Isabela nearly lost her grip on him, but Sebastian caught him and held him burying his face against the soft baby hair, inhaling that smell. _Sweet Andraste._ He had a son. His and Anabels’s son. _Maker’s Breath_. How had she managed this long on the run, carrying a child, giving birth, caring for him and Elin both. Why hadn’t she come to him sooner? 

He looked up at Isabela. “What’s his name?” 

“Lachlan.” She told him. 

After his grandfather. Sebastian could feel the tears running down his face. “Lachlan.” He pulled back to look at him. “Hello, Lachlan.” He said and received a gummy smile in return. Two small white teeth had broken through. He reached out a small hand and grabbed a hold of the heavy gold chain Sebastian wore and began happily chewing on it.

“He’s not afraid of me.” Sebastian said in wonder.

Isabela laughed and stroked the boy’s hair. “No, he’s not afraid of much, this one. He takes after his mother in that.” 

Lachlan had dropped the chain and grabbed at the sunburst medallion that hung from it. He chewed on that with the same gusto. Sebastian moved to the nearest chair and sat, wanting to look at his son. 

He had a son. _Oh Anabel._ A son, and he was perfect. 

As if he had heard Sebastian’s thoughts Lachlan looked up at him and gave him another smile. No one who saw them together could have any doubts as to whose son he was: his eyes, his mouth his chin, even his hairline looked like Sebastian’s. He had a son.

“Auntie?” He heard a small sleepy voice from behind him.

He turned his head and saw Elin standing there. She must be around six now. She was taller and little lankier than she had been two years go, but it was the look in her eyes that was the biggest change. Anabel had shielded her well when she was small, but there was something in those eyes now, a knowledge that there were darker things in the world, that hadn’t been there earlier. The Elin he had met had been a joyous, wild, happy child, and remembering that carefree child, running along the beach, his heart ached at the change.

 _Take care of them. Protect them. Keep them safe._ This was Anabel’s daughter. She had entrusted her to him and it didn’t matter who her father was. Whosever daughter she had been, from this night she was his. She was looking at him uncertainly and then her eyes lit up in recognition. She took a step towards him but hesitated.

He smiled gently and held out his hand to her. “Welcome to Starkhaven, Elin. Welcome home.”

 

_**Six months after that**_

Justice walked through the Fade barely noticing as the scenery around him changed. The passage of time in the mortal realm had always given him difficulty and he worried that too great a time had passed since he the last time he had done this. It was always harder when that was the case. 

He stopped and looked around. He didn’t recognize the scenery but the feel of it was right. “Daughter?” He called out. “Are you here?”

For a moment he thought he had been wrong and then he heard her laugh. He turned and there she was running towards him.

“Justice!” She called out happily. She threw herself into his arms and he lifted her up, holding her. It wasn’t quite the same sensation as holding her in the mortal realm, but it was enough. She seemed bigger and he thought again how odd it was, the way mortals grew and changed, taking so long to be properly formed.

She pulled back to look at him. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you for months and months.”

“I apologize, little one. It is hard for me to remember time passing. You are well?” 

Her eyes were suddenly bright with tears. “Mama had to go away. She had to hide.” Elin told him.

The light that crackled beneath Justice’s skin seemed to brighten in intensity and speed. “Your mother has left you? You are alone?”

“Mama wouldn’t do that! She took us to Auntie Isabela.” Elin told him. 

The pirate captain. He had mixed feelings about the woman who so often skirted the edges of what was right and what was not, but he couldn’t deny she was devoted to Hawke and would care for her children as her own. He looked around at this piece of the Fade that had been shaped by Elin’s memories. It seemed to be an elaborate garden, green and well-tended and he could see a marble staircase leading up to an imposing building in the distance though he couldn’t see it well enough to judge what it was. “This does not seem like a ship.”

Elin laughed and Justice smiled at the sound. He had missed his daughter. 

“We’re not on a ship! Auntie Isabela was only bringing us here.” 

“Where is here?” He asked. “I do not recognize this place.”

“We’re in Starkhaven. Isn’t it the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen?” She said with a happy sigh. As she looked around everything seemed to become more defined. It was indeed beautiful. They were in a rose garden, Justice realized. He looked down at Elin noticing for the first time the elegant silk dress she wore, a pale golden color just a shade darker than her hair, hair that was carefully styled instead of left streaming down her back the way it always had been. 

“Who is caring for you then?” Justice asked. “Can you show me?” It was something he had taught Elin to do after the first time they had left her, immediately after the Templar-Mage War had begun. Hawke had been furious with them for leaving and had warned Anders that if he left they wouldn’t be there if he returned. 

She had been telling the truth. When they had returned three months later she had been gone. Anders had been devastated but that night while he slept, Justice had found Elin in the Fade while she dreamt. He had spoken with her and shown her how to mold the Fade around her so it resembled wherever she was. As she became better at it it had become easier to find her and her mother after an absence, to find them wherever they had moved. 

Anders had been completely panicked when Justice told him of what he had done. He had been afraid that Elin’s ability to control the Fade, to form it, meant that she would be a mage and would be in even more danger. They had rushed to Hawke’s side to make certain Elin was safe and it had taken both Hawke using her ability to sense magic, and Justice assuring him that all in the Fade could shape it with enough practice to calm Anders again. 

It wasn’t precisely the truth. It was true their daughter was not a mage, but few mortals, mage or not could manipulate the Fade the way she did. Justice suspected that Elin’s affinity for the Fade had more to do with her being his daughter as well as Anders, but such things would only disturb Anders. 

It still made Anders uneasy when Justice found her that way, and as the Templar Mage war increased in scope Justice no longer told him of all his visits with Elin. Anders was so exhausted these days he barely dreamed at all when he slept. 

The Fade was Justice’s domain but what had been happening of late, the tears in the Fade, the demons leaking through, had made even Justice more wary of exploring it, even to find his daughter. It had only been Anders’ pointing out to him that it had been months since he had done so that had made him attempt it tonight. 

Elin looked behind her at the staircase and a figure appeared holding a small child by the hand. They came closer and Justice recognized the man: it was Sebastian Vael. So the child must be Hawke’s son by the man. 

“Elin!” Sebastian called with a smile. Elin waved to him and he waved back. He had changed from what Justice remembered. He looked older and sported a full thick beard, and whereas he and Anders wore their hair short now, Sebastian’s was long and pulled back into a ponytail. He and the boy were as richly dressed as Elin. He was an imposing figure. A Prince. An agent of the Divine who had made it his mission for a time to hunt them down. He had come close to succeeding on more than one occasion.

But then, more than two years earlier, Sebastian’s search for them had seemed to lose its fervor. They had thought perhaps it was the tears in the Fade that had distracted him, that the Divine had put her Hand of Justice to fighting that instead. He and Anders had been uneasy but had welcomed the respite from being constantly pursued by the man. 

And then, in one of Justice’s Fade visits to Elin, she had shown him Hawke: she had been great with child and not well. 

When Justice had reluctantly shared the image, with Anders he had insisted on going to her immediately. Though he had been deeply wounded by the knowledge that she had taken a lover and was carrying that man’s child, he hadn’t condemned her for it and when they found her and Elin he had asked no questions about who the man had been, and Hawke had volunteered no information. 

Anders had cared for her and had delivered the boy when it was time, but it had taken only one look at the babe, one look at the auburn hair and those all too familiar bright blue eyes for him to know immediately who had fathered him. His shocked eyes had met Hawke’s over the baby’s head and she’d returned his gaze steadily. He’d quickly handed the child to her and left the bedchamber. As soon as she had recovered from the birth they had left again. Neither he nor Hawke had spoken Sebastian’s name out loud at any time.

Sebastian turned to a pale haired elven woman beside him and spoke and she curtsied and took the boy’s hand from his father’s. She looked familiar.

“Who is that woman?” Justice asked Elin.

“That’s Orana. She knew Mama. She takes care of me and Lachlan.” 

Orana. Yes, he remembered her. He was pleased she was safe. 

“Elin!” Sebastian said again, walking towards her. He held out his arms.

Elin turned to Justice. “Father’s calling. I should go. I’m so glad you came though.” She said, hugging him quickly. She turned and ran to Sebastian, and he swept her up in his arms. 

“How’s my beautiful girl?” Justice heard him ask, and she giggled in response and hugged him tightly around the neck. 

_Father_. Justice watched the two with approval. She cared for this man and he for her.

During his time in the mortal realm Justice had learned that love was not finite: loving something new did not lessen the love one felt for other things, though many mortals seemed not to realize this. Even though Elin loved Anders it did not mean she loved him any less. So why should her loving Sebastian Vael and calling him Father change anything? 

Anders would not feel the same, of course. Justice would tell him simply that Elin was safe, that Hawke had entrusted her to the pirate. Let him believe that Elin had remained with Isabela. To tell Anders more would be a distraction.

Sebastian Vael was a good man. An honorable man. Justice had always felt that. Even his hunting of them had been a quest for justice for the crime they had committed. And he was a powerful man who could take care of Elin, and more than anyone else he could protect her and keep her safe.

Yes, he thought, as he walked away from the scene and it faded from view. 

Hawke had chosen wisely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pictures and such relating to A Chance Encounter can be found on my tumblr: 
> 
> [A Chance Encounter photo/style references](http://penthesilea1623.tumblr.com/search/A+Chance+Encounter)


End file.
